


My Universe Will Never Be The Same (Technical Difficulties remix)

by Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Multi, This space for rent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:06:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1680986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/Paraprosdokia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AOB Tony and MCU Tony switch places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Universe Will Never Be The Same (Technical Difficulties remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My Universe Will Never Be The Same (I'm Glad You Came)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/608255) by [Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/Paraprosdokia). 



> 19283764th time is the charm. Right? Sweet monkey loving science, please let this post. 
> 
> My tablet and AO3 are not playing nicely together and LJ keeps eating my posts. I will have access to my laptop tomorrow, hopefully I will be able to get the formatting fixed on this post and everything updated on the real AO3 copy of the story tomorrow.

Chapter 1

Tony's close...

Each breath is so fast and shallow that he's practically panting in anticipation.

Really close...

His heart is pounding and the arc reactor's glow intensifies.

Almost there...

He can taste the electricity and his skin shines with sweat.

Just a little more...

He barely tweaks the settings and a bright light appears in the center of the extremely complicated set up of wires, sheet metal, and glass.

"Yes!"

He steps closer, ignoring JARVIS's warning, fascinated by the growing light.

He freezes as he sees his own face staring back at him, dark hair crackling around his head as it twists in the pulsing waves of energy.

"Of course!" he shouts in unison with himself.

He raises his right hnd nd there is n odd thrill when he isn't exctly mirroring himself.

His eyes dilate and he really is panting now as he reaches out...

His fingers touch; there's light and sound-

And then nothing.

Chapter 2

He wakes in his bed, Steve hovering over him.

"Hey babe, I did it," Tony's voice is a little weak and his body aches. Reaching through a dimensional rift and touching his evil mirror self was probably not the best idea; but he literally couldn't help himself. And he's pretty sure it wasn't actually evil mirror him as his other self had a goatee and common sense said that evil mirror universe Tony would not have a goatee. Unless they're both the evil mirror universe thems? No, then Steve would also have a goatee and not his frown that means awesome angry sex followed by even more awesome make up sex and- oh, he just said all of that out loud...

"Tony," Steve's voice sparks a frisson of lust through Tony, it's dark and possessive the way Steve only gets when he's really, really, worried about Tony. He's sure if Steve knew he was doing it, or how much it turned Tony on he would try to stop doing it; which would mean Tony would have to push that much harder to hear it, and that might ultimately get him killed. So nope, he's gonna keep his mouth from going on autopilot and see where this leads. Hopefully, 'I'm so glad you're still alive you stupid genius sex.' He's pretty sure that's his favorite flavor of Steve, though he really needs to try them all to be sure. Maybe twice.

"Tony, are you listening to me?" Steve growls, pulling Tony's attention back to the solid wall of super soldier glaring down at him.

Oops, looks like he drifted off again while Steve was speaking. It's kind of hard to keep his thoughts together, probably a side effect from the energy transference. Speaking of, he should really get back down to the lab and check out the numbers.

"That was an unnecessary risk! Promise me you will never do anything that stupid again."

Tony smirks up at Steve, "Seriously, Rogers?"

Steve actually snarls as he pins Tony to the bed with one hand, looming over him with a dangerous look.

Tony pictures Steve with a goatee and, yeah, he'd totally rock an evil mirror Steve's world. Besides, it'd still be Steve (okay, a Steve); just like like evil mirror Tony would still be (a) Tony. Which is to say if he ever gets the damn Jabberwock working instead of exploding he'd love to tap both those asses, and he hopes Steve will take the opportunity to earn his Sexploration Merit Badge once they manage to work out all the (heh) kinks. It's not like he intentionally conned Bruce into helping him build the best thing to happen to orgies since the Rabbit, but now that he's starting thinking of the possibilities...

Tony's brain is drowning him in a myriad of explicit details when Steve strokes the hollow of Tony's throat with his thumb; his gentleness negating any threat in the gesture and giving lie to his furious expression, while not quite ruining the barbarian vibe Steve's got going.

"Promise me," Tony almost comes from Steve's richly possessive tone and, fuck yeah, if Steve keeps this up Tony will promise him anything. Tony's can't remember the last time he was this horny, though that could be partially accounted for by the lingering scent of their epic fuck from this morning still filling the room.

His smirk becomes, if possible, more insolent as he provokes his lover, "Sorry, Cap, I'm not going to not do my job just because it gets your spangly panties in a twist. Now let me up, I have work to do."

Steve's eyes widen in shock, as if he had actually expected Tony to give in without a little more foreplay; and then his body is covering Tony's, warm muscle and blazing temper wrapping around him. Tony's never felt so protected or been so hard in his life, so good call on the snark. He thrusts up against Steve, nothing between them but the decadent sheet and Steve's frustratingly mundane khakis.

Well now, that's new. Steve never goes commando (even when Tony asks, 'Pretty please with blow jobs on top'), but the hot length of his dick tells Tony what a surprisingly naughty boy Steve's been since this morning. Or, more likely, he'd been about to take a post workout shower and hadn't stopped for underwear in his rush to get to Tony. The thought causes a wave of affection to mingle with the lust pulling his body taut.

Whatever the case, Steve's smells fantastic and Tony buries his nose in the super soldier's neck to enhale his rich musk. Tony lets out a mumbled, "Mmm, yum," as he licks Steve's neck, little moans of pleasure escaping when his salty skin tastes even better than it smells.

The explosion must have really knocked him for a loop; he still kind of lightheaded and he's just now noticing that Steve must have stripped him before putting him in bed. Thank God he had because it's one less layer between them; and even though the sheet is silky smooth against his skin he wants more. He doesn't want anything between him the man he l-usts.

Steve's teeth are at his neck and then biting down and holy shit he actually broke Captain America's self control because Steve is rutting against him like an animal and growling into his ear, "MINE."

"Fuck. Yes...Holy fuck, Steve!" Steve's literally ripping off his clothes- usually he likes to tease Tony by slowly peeling off each layer, each item carefully folded before moving to the next. He makes a game of wearing extra layers to draw out the moment until Tony's shaking with need. Not this time and, fuck, Steve really must have been worried about him because he's not even reaching towards the toy drawer; and while Tony appreciates his enthusiasm, um, no, "Wait! Wait a sec. Lube! Lube, babe."

Steve looks confused and frustrated by the distraction as he pulls back but Tony doesn't waste any time waiting for him to catch up. He grabs a bottle of his favorite brand and uses two fingers without any of the normal build up; his fingers slip in so effortlessly that he moans in pleasure and anticipation. He must have done something right in another life because it had been his turn to catch this morning; as much as he loves fucking Steve (the noises he makes when Tony sinks into him are a fucking work of art), it always seems like a shame to miss out feeling all that gorgeous dick up his ass and now he get's it two fucks in a row.

He wraps his other hand, also covered in Liquid Sex, around Steve's dick as he adds a third finger, continuing to spread himself open as quickly as he can, the edge of pain ramping him up even higher and his dick starts to leak against his stomach. Fuck, he can't wait any longer and, thank God, neither can Steve. It's just the right amount of too fast, too hard, too much; his nerves are on fire as Steve tries to pin him down with his body. Tony falls back, letting Steve do all the work.

"Yeah, babe, like that, right there," Tony can't hold back his whimpers as Steve fucks him harder than he's ever been fucked in his life; curling over Tony so that he can alternately bite Tony's neck and possessively growl into his ear.

"Yours, yes, all yours. Only yours," Tony can't believe what he's saying, but that doesn't mean he doesn't mean it, that it isn't a relief all on it's own to escape from what he's been hiding from the last couple of months, "Yeah, that's it Steve. Come on babe, come with me."

Tony pushes a slick hand between them and starts thrusting into his palm in time to Steve's punishingly deep strokes. It feels like Steve's dick grows impossibly hard as Tony squeezes around him. The warm flood of Steve's cum fills him, marking him from the inside and he feels claimed as his own orgasm pours through him in a hot rush.

They lie there in a panting, sweaty, mess. Steve occasionally nuzzles his ear and they exchange a couple sweet kisses; and, yeah, Steve is reinforcing the exact wrong behavior here but Tony's certainly not going to let him know.

Steve is already hard inside him again and Tony, inappropriately as ever, thinks, 'Thanks Dad'... except this isn't Steve's normal super soldier crazy fast refractory time. Something's off because Steve isn't slowly fucking him the way he usually does, careful with Tony's strung out post orgasmic bliss. It's like he's locked into Tony's ass and not going anywhere.

"What the fuck, Rogers?"

Steve stops nibbling and props himself up on one arm, smiling down fondly and stroking his fingers through Tony's hair, "Back to 'Rogers' already, sweetheart? You know I mean it. You're mine, Tony," Steve's grip tightens briefly in Tony's hair and Tony shivers, "And you have to start thinking about the consequences of your actions. What if that explosion had hurt you. Or worse?"

"That's...What? No that's not what I mean. We're not still having that fight-"

Steve interrupts him, "I know you hate it when I wait until we're knotted to reprimand you, but sometimes it seems like the only way I can be sure you're listening to me."

"WHAT!?! What do you mean, knotted!? What the FUCK! Get off of me. Now!" Tony's starting to panic. He can't pull himself off Steve's dick; the thick length filling him has gone from 'Consult your physician if condition persists for more than four hours' to 'News of the Weird'.

Steve's gone pale and looks nauseous and, God no, he realizes what's happened at the same time as Steve's shocked whisper, "You're not my Tony."

Chapter 3

He wakes in his bed, Steve hovering over him.

"Hey babe, I did it," Tony's voice is a little weak and his body aches. Reaching through a dimensional rift and touching his evil mirror self was probably not the best idea; but he literally couldn't help himself. And he's pretty sure it wasn't actually evil mirror him as his other self had a goatee and common sense said that evil mirror universe Tony would not have a goatee. Unless they're both the evil mirror universe thems? No, then Steve would also have a goatee and not his frown that means awesome angry sex followed by even more awesome make up sex and- oh, he just said all of that out loud...

"Tony," Steve's voice is strange, but Tony can't put his finger on it, it's as though something's missing. Tony spends a long moment before realizing that Steve sounds softer. Steve's many things, but this gentleness is throwing Tony off.

"Tony, are you listening to me?" Steve says, pulling Tony's attention back to the solid wall of super soldier glaring down at him.

Oops, looks like he drifted off again while Steve was speaking. It's kind of hard to keep his thoughts together, probably a side effect from the energy transference. Speaking of, he should really get back down to the lab and check out the numbers.

"That was an unnecessary risk! Please, promise me you will never do anything that stupid again?"

Tony sits up and reaches out to Steve with an earnest smile, "I'm so sorry, my love, I got carried away. I promise, I'll try."

But instead of gathering Tony into his arms and launching into his usual lecture about how trying isn't good enough, not when it's Tony's life, Steve takes a step back and breaks Tony's heart.

"Very funny, Stark. Go ahead, mock me all you want. If you don't mind, I'll leave you to it while I see if I can help Bruce and JARVIS put your lab back together. You're just lucky you didn't get anyone killed."

Steve slams the door behind him and Tony starts shaking. That had sounded like actual disgust in Steve's voice- No. No, it had to be the heat. He's always more emotional when his hormones kick into overdrive and he's been close to a melt down all day.

He sits up in the bed, causing his clothes to shift roughly against his skin. That's odd. Steve knows his cycle better than Tony does; which is just more evidence of how truly angry Steve is, leaving Tony fully dressed. A few more hours and the fine weave of his shirt will go from mildly abrasive to actually painful.

He knows he should stay in his room; he's close enough now that any of the other alphas might jump him. Especially since Steve didn't even mark him before leaving; and, in fact, hasn't actually marked him since this morning. God, is this Steve's punishment for leaving this morning to work on the Jabberwock instead of staying in bed through the beginning of his heat? Is he forcing Tony to choose between staying locked in their room or trying to run the gauntlet of alphas picking up on his unmasked scent until he can get to Steve and beg him to lay his claim on Tony's skin.

That has to be it. Steve would never renounce him. Not after all they'd been through to get together. And what about his barbed words about Bruce? All of the team's cycles had synced shortly after they moved in together, which means Bruce is coming into his own heat. Is Steve going to challenge Romanov for possession of the more disciplined omega? Tony's loyalty is to Steve but, serum or no serum, no way does that fight end in Steve's favor. Especially once Clint's factored in.

Fuck. What does Steve want him to do? If he stays put, maybe he proves that he's a good boy or maybe he shows that he's not man enough to fight through a tower of alphas to get what he wants. He chases after his alpha and, assuming he's lucky enough not to get fucked senseless on his way to the lab, maybe all he gets to see for his trouble is to watch as Steve claims Bruce or lies unconscious while Romanov fucks her omega until even a beta could smell who he belongs to.

It's not like Widow doesn't already have most of the team under her... thumb. She has a fucking harem but that's never stopped her from trying to get Tony; making it all the more realistic that Steve would go after Bruce in a play to put the whole team under his dominion. And on the off chance that Steve wins, what would that mean for Tony? No one would ever mistake him for first omega material, but if Steve has all of the Avengers under him (minus Thor, obviously) why keep Tony at all?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His skin is getting warm, his heat is coming faster than he thought it would and it's messing with his head. He's going to have to fuck someone. And soon. If he waits much longer it'll be the first alpha he runs into and he doesn't want that.

He wants Steve.

'What if Steve doesn't want you?' his conscience always sounds like his father at times like this, 'What if he's finally realized you're not worth the effort?'

"Fuck you, Dad. I am worth it. Steve says I am. If he wants me to do this it's to prove it to myself. He loves me. I'm his," saying it out loud helps push down doubt and fear and while they remain a lead weight in pit of his stomach, it's one he can force himself to ignore. He is Steve's omega. He refuses to consider any other possibility.

He pushes himself up from the bed, peeling off his shirt as he goes with a twinge of guilty relief as he sheds that part of his bizarre punishment. He wants to run to Steve naked but still has enough sense to know how dangerous that would be, both for risk of running into Coulson or Romanov and, even worse, for rebelling any further against Steve's apparent wishes.

He takes a couple deep breaths and a frown touches the corner of his mouth; the comforting presence of their mixed scent is faint, with the barest hint of sex coming from the sheets. Did Steve intentionally have their room cleaned? He desperately hopes that it was just JARVIS's cleaning protocols kicking in while he was locked in the lab.

Right. The lab, where Steve said he would be.

Tony opens the door, ready to slam it shut if Romanov or Coulson are in the hallway. Coulson is slightly less of a worry, he isn't likely to jump Tony without Romanov's say so, otherwise she might cut him off from Clint. At least it always seems like Romanov is the dominant alpha of the pair.

Okay, enough stalling. Down the hall, a quick elevator ride, and then two more hallways. He can do this, he can-

He stops thinking and starts running, his senses slightly confused by how everything smells. Or, rather, doesn't. JARVIS must have the ROSIEs on overdrive. The jerks over at iRobot can kiss his sweet omega ass, his ROSIEs make Roombas look like broken slide rulers.

Distracting himself with the momentary joy of being able to mock (if only in his own head) the sexist MIT assclowns unwilling to let an 'silly little meg' join their robot party him gets another 20 feet towards his goal without collapsing in a panic.

Tony makes it to the elevator and sighs with relief as the doors open and it's empty. He just needs to keep his mind busy, keep the siren call of fear out of his scent, and he'll make it to his mate. He's reaching for he button when Agent Coulson slips through the shutting doors.

Fuck.

FUCK.

Strangely, Coulson doesn't doing anything except smirk as he reaches across Tony to press the the lobby.

"Mr. Stark," yeah, it's always hard to tell, but that is definitely a smirk, "You know these work better if you actually push the button?"

Tony's finger is still hovering over the button for the 24th floor as he watches Coulson; ready for him to grab Tony by the throat or pin him up against the wall. Maybe Romanov really does have the alpha on a tight leash, because the doors open and Coulson holds them with one hand and just says, "Hey, Stark, you look a little feverish. Maybe you should skip playing with your toys today?"

Tony stares at him in confusion.

"No... No, Steve's at the lab."

"Even still, you could take a day off from Candyland? I'm sure Dr. Bann-"

"NO!"

Coulson shrugs minutely and presses the button for Tony with a bland, "Okay. Going up."

Coulson steps out of the elevator and walks away without looking back.

What was that? Is Coulson in on it? Maybe Steve promised him Clint in exchange for Bruce? That doesn't make any sense, and it certainly wouldn't explain the unexpected free pass he just gave Tony. And what was with his 'Dr. Banner'?

When Tony realizes he couldn't smell Coulson at all his worried feeling intensifies. Maybe something's wrong with him. Well, okay, a lot of things are wrong with him, but maybe this is something new. It's getting harder and harder to think as his lust pours through him like current. He needs to get fucked. He needs it so bad and that need swallows the voice telling him he's not wrong, it's this place that's wrong.

He's in a half daze as he reaches the lab, barely comprehending that Steve and Dummy are moving a burnt-out generator while Bruce is picking through the wreckage for anything salvageable.

He reaches his mate, his alpha but not- the wrongness is even worse this close; but it's Steve, underneath the smell of burnt wiring is the pure scent of Steve's sweat, it has to be his alpha, "Please, please Steve, I need you? Please?"

Steve ('Not Steve') grabs his arms, "Tony, what's wrong? What do you need?"

Tony's glassy eyes fill with tears; he waited too long, he should have run after his mate right away. God, why isn't Steve biting him and tearing off his clothes? He's just standing there while Tony burns and begs, "Please, Steve? Please fuck me? I need you, I'm sorry, please?"

A vague recollection of Steve yelling at him when he woke up floats through the haze, Steve asking him to promise him something and Tony gave the wrong answer. He can't remember what Steve wanted but whatever it is Tony will do it. He will promise anything, anything, if Steve will just touch him, claim him, however Steve will take him, "I promise, I promise, Steve. Please, it hurts so much, please Alpha, I need you."

He feels Bruce behind him and then a pinch at his neck before the sedative flows into him, cooling the fire. The last thing he sees as the darkness pulls him under is Steve's concerned face whispering, "You're not my Tony."

Chapter 4

Bruce rests a tentative hand on Steve's shoulder, stopping him as he frantically sifts through the remnants of Lab 24b.

"Steve, enough. There's nothing left. We have to wait for Tony to wak-"

"That is not Tony!" Steve shouts, pointing in vague direction of their room.

Even sedated Tony (or someone who looked just like him) kept clinging to Steve, murmuring things filthy enough to keep him bright red all the way back to the lab.

By the time Steve gets back to the still smoldering wreckage Bruce has given up on learning anything from the rubble and is concentrated on getting JARVIS reconnected to the Tower. Something had happened during the Jabberwock's test run that had not only torn apart one of Tony's nearly indestructible labs, but had caused JARVIS's connection to short out as well. Bruce knows better than anyone the amount of force necessary to cause this kind of concentrated damage and it certainly isn't anything made on Earth.

He lets Steve work out his frustration on the very expensive scrap metal while he helps JARVIS reroute himself through the phone lines. The A.I. equates it to communicating through cave paintings, but it's the best they could do for now.

Bruce tries once more to get through to Steve, "JARVIS blacked out during the explosion. He rebooted at Tony's place in Malibu and has been trying to get access to what's left of the Tower's systems. We've managed to jury-rig something for now, but it's not perfect. Please, hear him out? JARVIS?"

"Thank you, Doctor," even with JARVIS's sounding like he's shouting down a well, the A.I.'s pragmatic tone is comforting. Steve feels a sense of calm slowly settle into his bone and is struck, not for the first time, by how much they rely on JARVIS as a stabilizing influence. With his help it's only a matter of time before they can get Tony, the real Tony, home.

"As I was telling Dr Banner, I should be able to assist him setting up Laboratory 36c to match 24b prior to the incident. Unfortunately I cannot remember the exact settings at the time of the breach."

"Bruce? What about you, can y-"

Bruce is already shaking his head, "I was in the basement monitoring the Tower's reactor."

"But between you and JARVIS you can get close and from there-"

"Sorry, Cap, when the building's grid spiked I did what I could to bleed off the energy, which is why we still have a 24th floor. There's no way I'm going to flip a switch hope for the best. Historically, that hasn't worked in anyone's favor."

"No, you're right Bruce. I get it. I just..."

"We require Mr. Stark's assistance."

"But we don't have Tony, we have an imposter; and not a very good one at that."

Steve remembers Tony's sweet smile as he apologized the first time. He should of known from the candor in his voice that it wasn't Tony- the man he loves ('Unrequited,' sharply follows the unspoken admission) isn't capable of faking that level of sincerity. And more importantly he would never give in that quickly to an argument. Instead of recognizing that something was wrong he'd thought Tony was up to his old shenanigans. If only he hadn't flipped his wig and stormed out...

"Actually, Captain Rogers, I believe we do; or at least a version of him. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner were extrapolating a theory based on Dr. Selvig's tesseract research."

"We think Tony had a breakthrough," Bruce, with his typical dry humor, adds, "Twice."

"Twice?" Steve repeats, standing as the pieces click into place.

"Yes, sir. I believe that at the same time our Tony Stark was opening a portal to another dimension, that dimension's Tony Stark was opening a portal to ours. Which means-"

Steve interrupts, long strides propelling him out the shattered glass door, "Which means this Tony can reopen the door and get my -our- Tony back."

Chapter 5

Steve, or, you know, whoever this is stuck in his GOD DAMN ASS (and really? Not enough swearing in the world covers how fucked up that is), eventually helps Tony calm down.

Fuck, maybe he's had a lot of practice. Maybe Tony's counterpart freaks out about it all the time. Although judging by Steve's reactions he actually expects Tony to be happy to have what feels like a million inches of hot cock locking them together. Fucking hell. He sighs and does his best to stop thinking about it.

Through a series of complicated maneuvers, only slightly more unpleasant than he's starting to think of as baseline discomfort, Steve manages to twist them around so that he's behind Tony, giving him as much space as possible; or at least as much as he can what with being inside him.

It's technically an improvement on ten minutes ago.

Technically.

He sighs again and tries to concentrate on the tablet in front of him, re-running his calculations and learning what he can about this dimension over dial up (yeah, he's as shocked as anybody that that's still a thing). He should call JARVIS back, but he really doesn't want anyone to see him like this, not even his better half. There's a level of intimacy, of helplessness, of being... Open... Exposed- 'Dammit, Stark, FOCUS.'

Right now JARVIS is stuck on the other side of the continent until they replace the Tower's fried systems. The experiment was mostly a success, but the power surge had melted more than half of his poor baby's electronics. Tony's already ordered replacement parts for anything he can't manufacture on site but with JARVIS managing the repairs remotely getting the Tower back up to speed is going to take a frustratingly long time.

He shifts minutely, holding back a whimper at the sharp reminder of exactly what he's distracting himself from.

The second time after New York he had thought he had installed enough redundancies; but, then again, he had thought that the Chitauri. He easily forgave himself for screwing up the first time he'd had to rebuild her- how seriously can you prepare for an alien invasion? Unless you're S.H.E.I.L.D. the answer is not very seriously at all; but, hey, broken clocks/twice a day.

The worst part isn't that he can't get comfortable; it's that Steve has to be aware of every half caught breath, every twitch of his aching hole, and, most disconcerting of all, the low level interest his dick is keeping on the situation.

Damn it, he isn't going to think of this as a 'Situation', he wants to be able to keep a straight face next time he's on Blitzer.

Moving on...

This time he's going to be sure there won't be another next time. 'Shut up, brain, that makes perfect sense.'

He huffs again, when what he really wants to do is cry. ('Stark men don't cry, son.' 'Fuck you, Dad.' He's pretty sure this is the exact situation crying was made for.) He takes back his last birthday wish of him and Steve locked in a room together for a day with out any interruptions. It was a stupid, stupid wish.

Except it wouldn't be if he just had his Steve.

Steve wraps his arm around Tony's ribs and pulls him back into full body contact. Tony immediately feels better, so sue him he takes advantage of it; melting into the warm strength surrounding him.

"I am sorry, Mr. Stark," Steve sounds genuinely contrite, "It shouldn't be too much longer."

Tony leans his head back on Steve's shoulder and looks up into troubled blue eyes.

"No, actually, I'm the one that should apologize," God, it kills him a little to say it, but it's not like he plans on being here long enough for Steve to hold it against him, "I should have realized something was off sooner."

He sets the tablet down to awkwardly pat Steve's arm; he fails miserably at being comforting, but at least he's trying, right?

Steve hugs him and rests his nose behind Tony's ear, inhaling deeply, which causes Tony's dick to go from 'mildly curious' to 'definitely paying attention'.

"Do you think he's okay?" Steve whispers into Tony's skin.

And Tony is a bad, bad, man; because Steve's looking for reassurance, not round two, and another go around is about they only thing Tony can think about with Steve pressing feather soft kisses across Tony's neck like he's trying to keep them secret, "Hey now, I'm sure your me is fine. I'm pretty damn resilient, Rogers."

Tony clenches around Steve, eliciting a gasp followed by a breathy, "He was so close to going into heat; I shouldn't have let him run that damn experiment in the first place -"

Tony interrupts him with another squeeze and grasps Steve's chin as he twists to smirk up at him, "I highly doubt the universe exists where you could have stopped him."

Steve's eyes uncross and he turns his head to brush his lips across Tony's palm, "Thanks, Stark. I think."

They cuddle a while longer and, if he's being honest, it's not so bad. Maybe he should give in to Steve's gooey moods more often. He's also more than half hard, but that can be ignored. Right now it's just about two not quite strangers, not really anything else, offering each other solace.

Chapter 6

Tony manages to read up on some of the major differences in their worlds; outside of the weird chromosome thing their histories are basically the same. Henry VIII kept all his wives in some sort of harem but the Reformation still happened, instead of Brangelina they have Brangeloonifer, and Katie still divorced Tom (or, renounced, which as far as Tony can tell is the same thing).

Tony's also gained some perspective, fixing this Steve in his mind as 'Rogers'. After all, Tony doesn't know him any better than he knew Steve that first day on the helicarrier. Which is as good of topic as any and besides, Rogers gets the goofiest smile as he talks about his Tony.

"Tony was amazing, Stark. I've never seen an omega so strong, so brilliant, so-"

"So stubborn?" Tony hazards a guess with a smile. As disparate as their dimensions are, he recognizes the fond exasperation in Rogers' voice.

"Yeah, that's him alright," Rogers chuckles in his ear and it feels too good to ignore. Tony snuggles back with a soft hum of satisfaction. In the short time they've been... together Tony's started tracking exactly what buttons to push, and hooray for the scientific method- he loves the scientific method, because Rogers wraps his arm tighter around Tony's waist and pulls him in closer. Tony moves on to step two, whimpering and turning his head to expose the long line of his neck and adds another for the win column as Rogers growls low in his throat and bites down.

Tony shivers and moans, letting himself get lost in the sensations he stokes his thumb across the back of Rogers's wrist before urging his hand down to Tony's aching dick.

The pressure in his ass has been slowly ebbing, but Tony's careful not to move beyond the parameters he's identified on a scale of 'Whoawhoawhoa' to 'let's do that again' as phrases from WebMD's knotting page float through his mind; phrases like, 'permanent damage' and 'seek immediate medical attention'.

Rogers is stroking him, his hand tight and perfect, palm covering the head of his dick on the upstroke then squeezing tighter on the trip back down to his balls, just the way Tony likes it.

Rogers apparently has the timing on this whole knotting thing down because after a few more minutes of blissful squirming while Rogers continues to growl and nip at his throat, he's gently thrusting in and out of Tony.

"Yeah that's better, that's more than better, that's great, keeping doing that."

Damn it! Rogers stops moving, his hand on Tony's dick still Rogers pulls his lips away from Tony's neck to pant, "Sorry about that, Stark."

'Note to self, stick to non-verbal cues.'

"Uh, kind of the opposite of what I was going for, Rogers," Tony twists in his arms, pushing Rogers down and re-situating them so that he's on top, knees braced against Rogers' ribcage, leaning down to press a hand down in the center of his chest. Rogers could move them if he really wanted to, but Tony plans on making sure he doesn't want to, "Look, we're here now, may as well make the most of it," he punctuates the offer by casually flicking one of Rogers' tight nipples.

"I... Stark... We should... We should probably stop... We have to get Tony back, he needs... He needs his alpha..." Rogers groans as Tony rocks against him, leaning back and lightly rubbing both of his own nipples, knowing the sight he makes, disheveled and wanton in a way that turn's Steve's gears like nothing else. Hey, he never said he was going to play fair.

Rogers' hands grip Tony's hips, but instead of pushing him off like Tony halfway expects, his fingers dig into Tony's sweat slick skin, only lifting him up in order to bring him down to meet Rogers' thrusting. Tony throws his head back and moans each time they slam together and he has such good ideas, the best ideas; he's a fucking genius because this is perfect, this is exactly what he needed after nearly thirty minutes of cuddling. Stark aren't built for cuddling, they're built for fucking and fuck yes, does Rogers know what he's doing.

Tony leans down, squeezing both of Rogers' nipples now, tight, but not too tight; Rogers writhes beneath him and it's beautiful, the pale blue glow of the arc reactor painting Rogers' skin, highlighting his chiseled muscles, the square line of his jaw, the sharp curve of his cheek bones. He wishes for a moment that he had Steve's skill with paint, or charcoal, or at the very least that JARVIS was online to capture the moment for him.

He remembers just in time that this isn't Steve and that the last thing he wants now is for Rogers to come inside him. He grabs Rogers' wrists and quickly pins them to the bed by his thighs as he slides off and down Rogers's body.

"Wh...Ton...?" Rogers starts to protest but his orgasm is racing towards him and he falls back on the bed as Tony swallows him down, gripping his wrists tightly. Tony's licking and sucking as Rogers crashes headlong into it, abs rippling, toes curling, he lets out a sustained yell as Tony drinks...and drinks...and what the fuck? How do these people stay hydrated. Rogers tastes slightly different from Steve, not bad different, just different different. He's pleasantly sharp against Tony's tongue, even if it wasn't quite what he'd been expecting. He has a feeling he'll be running into that feeling often; at least until he's able to get home.

Tony pulls his mouth off with a pop and Rogers whimpers at the over-stimulation. Tony's still holding his wrists, but he loosens his grip, "You okay there, Cap?" he asks as he stokes Rogers' thudding pulse point with his fingertips.

"Hunangahna."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Tony says with a self satisfied smirk, kissing the inside of Rogers' thigh.

Hmmm decision time: stroke off to the gorgeous sight before him, or finish himself off in the shower so that he can get back to the lab that much quicker. And really, it's no contest.

As awesome as this has been, and seriously, 'A+, would definitely ride again', the quicker he gets home the better.

After about fifteen minutes (and a killer fantasy of being double teamed by Steve and Rogers) he comes out of the en suite with a towel draped around his hips and water dripping down his chest, the arc reactor lighting up individual droplets like blue diamonds. He pats his beard dry with a second towel, looking over to see that Rogers has half covered himself with a sheet and is gently napping.

Tony snaps him out of it a moment later with a loud, "What the FUCK."

"Tony?" Rogers mumbles.

"Sorry!" Tony calls out, "Never mind, go back to sleep. It's nothing."

He comes out of the closet fully dressed, damp towels in hand; Steve is watching Tony through eyelashes half mast with post orgasmic lassitude.

"Do I even want to know why half of my flight suits are crotchless?"

Chapter 7

Steve stops in front of the door to their quarters and takes a breath; with as fast and loose as Bruce had been with the sedative's dosage, it's possible 'Tony' is still out of it. He reminds himself to keep a cool head; just because this isn't his their Tony doesn't mean he doesn't deserve Steve's compassion.

This Tony had been acting like he was under the effects of the AIM pheromone bomb they had to deal with last year; Bruce (and to a more limited degree, JARVIS) has his hands full running tests on the blood sample Bruce had reluctantly drawn. They all hope finding a cure will be faster this time; luckily Bruce's lab has a separate server and he still has his notes from when he created the antidote for the team.

'Though not until after Tony and I engaged in a highly private act in the very public common room,' Steve thinks, feeling the tips of his ears turn red.

There isn't much Steve can do to help Bruce and JARVIS and the lab is as good as its going to get. He can't avoid the doppelgänger forever and he's their best option for getting Tony back. He isn't sure how they're going to repeat the timing, but if this Tony is anywhere near the genius as theirs is (as he often likes to remind anyone who will listen) it should be duck soup.

He's interrupted in his woolgathering by a whimper on the other side of the door. He cracks it open, letting a shaft of light in from the hallway, "Mr. Stark?"

Tony is curled up on on his side, naked, in the middle of the bed. The light of the arc reactor peaks out between his knees as he shivers and lets out a shaky moan, "Steve?"

'He's back, thank God he's back,' Tony's been so scared, Steve's never punished him like this before; he can't imagine what he's done to make Steve so angry that he would abandon Tony fully clothed in their bed and their room practically stripped of their scents. He must have been bad, so bad. Dad was right; he is a fuck up. Even for an omega. He doesn't deserve to be loved, to be cherished the way Steve has cherished him. Please, whatever it was he did this time, let Steve forgive him. He'll stop being so mouthy, do what ever Steve asks, whenever he asks. The back of his mind tries shouting at him that this isn't him, it's the heat; but it doesn't help, he can barely hear it over his throbbing need to be touched, marked, mated.

"I'm here. It will be okay." Steve's voice calms him slightly, he is here now; soon they'll be knotted and Tony will be able to think again. Then he can ask what he did, so he knows what he can do to never have to go through this again. He had thought going through a heat on his own was bad, but it's nothing compared to going through a mated heat with an alpha who refuses to touch him.

Tony looks up at Steve and flinches away from the light, shutting his eyes, "Bright. Hurts."

"I'm sorry, fella, here," Steve's voice is softly concerned as he comes in through the door, shutting it before adding, "How's that? Better?

No, not even close to better. He needs his alpha to claim him, to lock them together with his perfect cock, to dig his teeth into Tony's neck and to brand him with his scent so that everyone knows who he belongs to, so that it seeps into Tony's skin until he'll never question it again.

The pale blue of the arc reactor is the only light now; Steve can tell Tony's still shivering by the way the light flickers around room. Tony rasps out a faint, "Hurts."

"Oh, Tony," Steve's concerned that Tony stripped himself, what ever he's under is hitting him hard. Steve had tucked him in as gently as he could before storming back to the lab. He feels a stab of guilt, he had been so consumed with getting his Tony back that he hadn't really considered what this Tony might be going through.

"What if I help you get your shirt back on?" Maybe the light from the arc reactor painful? "Would that help?"

He's completely unprepared for the keening whine, "NoOOOoo... pleeease... please..."

Worse, worst, Steve isn't here to forgive him, but to keep punishing him. Some part of himself tries to push through the haze of want to tell Tony that he isn't making any sense, that this isn't like his mate but he can't think, all he can do is feel. He needs, he needs so desperately...

Steve can't help but rush to the bed as Tony begins shaking outright; the mattress sinks under his knee, "Tony! Please, tell me what you need?"

He reaches out, hand hovering over Tony's shoulder, wanting to offer comfort but afraid of making things worse. Tony's skin glows in the blue light of the arc reactor, a fine sheen of sweat coating his body. His eyes are screwed shut and his arms are wrapped around his knees as he rocks back and forth.

'Oh God, why won't Steve touch me,' he feels as though he might die from this. His stupid brilliant brain reminds him it could really happen, of the articles he's read on heat death; and even though he can barely remember his own name ('Anthony Edward Stark, I am a Stark damn it!') he can remember every fucking detail he's ever read on the subject. Doesn't happen often, but it can happen. It usually takes days of being worked up without release and only the most sadistic of alphas would do that to their mate. Steve isn't sadistic. Steve is pure and kind. Which means he must be hurting Tony for his own good, but why? Dear God, "Whyyyy!"

Steve hopes to high heaven he isn't making a mistake as he rests his palm on Tony's shoulder; it sets Tony off like a bear trap and in a rushed tangle of limbs Tony has Steve's back against the headboard, wrapping himself around Steve like a blanket.

Steve's touch is like a benediction. Tony feels freed, as though Steve had bound him with his disappointment and finally found the mercy to unchain him. He twines his arms around his alpha's chest, whimpering at the burning scratch of Steve's worn cotton shirt. He buries his head in the crook of Steve's neck and inhales with a sob.

"Shhhh, shhhh," Steve whispers and pulls Tony close, petting a rough hand through his hair. The touch seems to calm Tony, "I've got you."

Tony shivers in Steve's arms for a couple minutes, it's enough for now to stay close and breath him in. Steve's not giving him anything more yet, but it's settling the wave down so Tony will take what he can get.

He can feel his ass's lubricant where it slicks down the back of his thighs and just thinking about it causes the wave to swell back to full strength. Fuck, Tony needs Steve to take him ('Please, please I need it!'), but if part of his punishment is to go slow, he can take it. He can take it for Steve.

He marvels at Steve's willpower, to be able to sit and gently stroke Tony's hair and fevered skin. He can feel Steve's cock pressing up through the painful layer of his khaki's; and as bad as this is, that Steve would put himself through it for Tony just shows him how much he cares. Tony feels a flare of relief, Steve isn't punishing him out of loathing but out of love. No other alpha on the planet would be this stoic. Tony doesn't know what he's done to deserve this much pain and this much devotion, but he will to do anything to be worthy of it.

"Tony?" Steve whispers. Tony is calmer now, head tucked into Steve's shoulder as Steve rubs up and down his back, across his shoulders, and down his arms. He runs a hand through Tony's hair, scratching slightly the way he knows comforts his Tony. He prays to everything he believes in that his Tony is having an easier time of it than the Tony in his arms.

"Tony, sweetheart," he can't help the endearment; Tony seems so fragile, clinging to Steve in such desperate need. Steve shouldn't have let things get this far, but any time he shifts as though to move Tony off of his lap, Tony lets out a wounded little whimper. Tony is still rocking his body and now that he's on top, knees bracketing Steve's hips, it means he's rubbing up against a part of Steve that never was very good at listening to his commands, especially when in proximity to Tony. Apparently any Tony.

"Shhh, it's okay. You're okay. I've got you. I have to make a quick call, that's all," he keeps petting Tony with one hand as he fumbles for the phone on the dresser, holding back his own moan as Tony's mustache brushes against his neck.

He dials blindly before pressing the phone to his ear.

"Banner here."

"Please tell me you've got something," Steve begs as Tony begins to tentatively lick Steve's jaw at the soft spot behind his ear; and regardless of how wrong it is Steve isn't capable of stopping his body's animal response.

Tony can't make out what Bruce is saying, but the fact that his alpha would call another omega, an omega not part of their harem, while driving Tony out of his mind causes a spark of jealously to burn through him. Tony needs to do everything he can to remind Steve he's here, that Tony belongs to him, needs him.

"I'm working on it. Is everything okay?"

Everything is not okay, but Steve's not about to give Bruce any details, "Yeah, yes," his pitch slides up midway through the word, "But he's not in a very talkative mood."

And, as more proof that he really is another version of Tony, when he isn't talking or working, he's trying to get laid. Not that Steve's being fair, but it's hard to be fair when Tony is doing everything in his nearly unlimited repertoire to get a reaction out of Steve.

"Just hurry, he's awake and I'm not sure how much longER-" he cuts himself off with an embarrassing little yip; Tony's grinding down on him now, his teeth worrying Steve's ear, and if Tony seems to be in less pain, he's also becoming more frantic.

"How much longer I can resist doing something I'll regret," Steve pants; at this point it's taking every ounce of willpower not to rut up against Tony, and while he knows there something wrong with it, he's having trouble remembering why, just that it would be bad for Tony, "That Tony will regret."

"Steve? Are you sure you don't need me to come down there-"

"No!" Steve grits out possessively before catching himself, "No, I've got this. Just... Hurry."

Tony isn't sure what Steve's talking about, but then, almost nothing has made sense since the accident. There's something there, something that teases at his memories, trying to put the pieces together, but then Steve thrusts up against him, almost involuntarily, and he loses the train of thought. It doesn't matter. Not important. Alpha. His alpha, his mate is what matters; he bites his way across Steve's shoulder, worrying at the thin fabric with his teeth, frustrated that it's blocking his access to his alpha's skin.

"I'll see what I can do; but so far, all the markers indicate this is natural."

"Wha- OW! Tony! Stop that!" Tony's love bites have become painfully hard, interspersed with little growls that are going straight to Steve's dick. It's as though he wants to break Steve's skin through the shirt, "Maybe check him for rabies while you're at it."

"As far as I can tell, he has a completely clean bill of health."

Tony has his nose pressed against Steve's neck, alternately breathing and licking against his pulse, it's almost enough to distract Steve completely, "How is that possible?"

"I have no idea but I'm running a complete DNA scan now. I should have more for you in a couple hours."

"But, you're saying he isn't under the influence of anything?"

"Not as far as I can tell by his blood work. I'll keep looking, but for now the best we can do is keep him," Steve can practically feel Bruce's awkward shrug through the telephone, "Comfortable."

'Bruce, if this is like last year there's only one thing that will really help; and I'm not sure-"

"You're still Tony's in case of, right?"

"Of course, but that doesn't mean-"

Bruce interrupts him with an impatient sigh, "Everything we've seen so far indicates the two of you are together on his side of the portal. At this point I don't think there is anyone else he would rather have get him through this than you."

Tony is driving Steve out of his mind, zeroing on Steve's most sensitive erogenous zones in all the ways that he and his Tony have discovered since getting together. Steve's skin, pink with arousal, flushes a deeper shade as he feels a twist of guilt; "And what about the real Tony?"

"Steve," Bruce chuckles, though it is almost entirely humorless, "What do you think Tony would say if he finds out how nobly you resisted him?"

"He'd," Steve pauses; he can hear Tony say, 'Dude, you have got to tap that. Have I taught you nothing?', because Tony is nothing if not inappropriate. Steve know's Tony's heart would be in the right place though.

He has to take a moment, to be sure this is the right thing to do for everyone, that it's not his racing libido's wishful thinking, "He really would be upset if I didn't, uh, lend a hand; a wouldn't he?"

Bruce laughs again, this time with a faint strain of affection, "I really think he would be."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay, I... I'll check in... after," from how hot his face is, Steve is surprised it isn't lighting up the room brighter than Tony, "Keep working on an antidote."

"Have fun exchanging fluids."

"I'm not going to-"

Bruce hangs up with a final snort of amusement, getting far more enjoyment out Steve's discomfort that Steve thinks is appropriate.

Steve drops the handset in its cradle and twists them so that he's hovering over Tony, his dog tags slipping out of his shirt to pool below the hollow of Tony's throat, the light from his arc reactor reflecting off the embossed metal, "YES, yes, please Steve!"

Steve still feels the uneasy edge of guilt as he dips his head down to lick at Tony's neck, unable (unwilling) to resist. This isn't like when he and Tony had both been dosed; they had already been in a relationship and, other than location, everything that they had done was something they had done before and did again several times later. At the same time, he remembers how much it hurt to resist the siren call of their bodies; and if he's reading Tony right, what he needs more than anything else is Steve's touch.

As he tastes the sweet sweat under Tony's jaw he stops thinking all together for a moment, lunging to capture Tony's lips in a kiss. Tony surges up against him, all wet tongue and teeth and Steve gives in to the urge to scratch his nails down Tony's arms from shoulder to wrist. Tony whispers into his mouth, "More... Please..."

"You don't know what you're saying, sweetheart," Steve tells him, but gives in, sucking Tony's lower lip into his mouth and then pulling back with his teeth before biting Tony's chin. Tony gasps as Steve's teeth scrape through his beard and then the stubble along his jaw before pressing into the tendon behind his ear.

"Do. Need you. NOW."

Tony's fingers claw at Steve's belt before Steve grabs them and holds them over Tony's head, "Wait, Tony. Wait."

Tony cries out, thrusting up against him and Steve feels his eyes roll back. He's tempted, so tempted, to take everything Tony's offering but this isn't about what Steve wants. This is about what Tony needs. He pulls back and Tony keeps his wrists pressed against the bed, "Good, that's good Tony. Stay like that for me, please."

Oh, oh, he can't take this, pinned by his alpha's words alone, the praise makes his toes curl but it's only a second before doubt rushes in; he's going to fail and Steve will renounce him, make a play for Banner, or maybe just join Romanov and Coulson's harem.

No. No, he can do this, Steve is looking down at him like he believes he can. He can be worthy of that trust! He can. He can be good. He's a good boy. He's Steve's good boy.

The heat continues to burn away everything but his need to submit to his alpha in a way that still sends a thrill of fear and lust through him; it's nothing like the predatory feel of an unmated heat, and while he doesn't exactly miss his playboy days, he still isn't used to needing anyone the way he needs Steve.

"I'll be good," he says docilely, smiling when he sees a fine tremor run through Steve's (still completely clothed!) body; proof that everything he's doing is for Tony.

"I know you will, Tony," Steve sits on the edge of the bed, removing his shoes and socks as Tony's eyes stay locked on him.

Tony stretches himself out, all lean muscle and shadow, light radiating from his chest like a beacon. He keeps his wrists above his head, hands splayed in surrender against the bed. He licks his lips as Steve watches him and he spreads his legs wantonly, inviting Steve to take his body. He's ready, he's so ready. He's been ready all day; ready his whole life.

Steve swallows and starts to take off his shirt, stopping with a groan before he reveals more than a tantalizing flash of skin.

If he strips now, Steve's not sure he'll have the self control not to fuck Tony through the mattress; and while Tony (his Tony) claims he likes the feeling of Steve's bruises on his skin, he can't do that to the man sprawled before him. He instead takes his belt off slowly, trying to regain his control one loop at a time, "Still with me Tony?"

"Need you," he whimpers and Steve has to shut his eyes. This is too close to one of his and Tony's fantasies; one they've talked about over and over until they reached completion but that Steve hasn't been daring enough to try outside of those fantasies.

If this was his Tony, looking at him with this much need; he would wrap the belt around his wrists, make Tony close his mouth carefully around the leather to hold it in place, teeth gentle so as to not damage the belt. Tony would have to balance a fine level of control, keeping his wrists bound and his mouth gagged...but this isn't his Tony, and that's their fantasy; he refuses share it with someone else, even if that someone else is Tony. Tony spread out exactly like they've talked about, open and vulnerable, not hiding anything from him.

This is going to kill him.

'He's trying to kill me,' Tony thinks, watching Steve toy with the belt in his hands, seeing his alpha's cock surge up against the pale fabric of his pants. He isn't sure what he needs to do to get Steve inside him, but he'll do it. He'll do anything. He moans softly, "Please?"

"Tony," Steve drops the belt to surge over him, kissing him deeply; his dog tags brushing against Tony's feverish skin. Steve traces lingering kisses after his fingertips as he lightly scratches his nails down Tony's throat, over his collarbones, skirting the arc reactor to his nipples and tweaking them briefly before moving his hands lower. Each nipple receives a quick bite and then a soothing swipe of his tongue. Steve's thumbs press down the line of his abdomen before flaring his large warm palms to cup Tony's hips.

Tony's eyes and fists are clenched shut and he's biting his lip as he shakes his head back and forth.

"Are you okay, Tony? Do you want me to stop?" Tony whimpers as though it had been a threat, "I won't stop, sweetheart, I promise, not if you don't want me to. What ever you need. But you have to tell me what you want."

"You! I need you!" he's nearly mindless with it, thrusting his hips up against Steve's hands. He's never known Steve to be so cruel; demanding yes, but to stretch it out like this? He'd had no idea what his alpha was capable of.

"Look at me, Tony."

Tony shakes his head. He can't. If he looks he'll break; he won't be able to resist moving, resist tearing Steve's pants open so that he can ride his mate's perfect cock until his knot swells inside of him, filling Tony with his seed.

Steve's mouth hovers over the swollen head of Tony's dick. It's all he can do not to lick it, but he has to be sure, as much as he can be, that Tony wants this; that Tony chooses this.

"Tony!" he tries and fails to keep the growl out of his voice, "I said, 'Look at me'."

Tony's whole body shakes, the tip of his dick is leaking down his shaft so much that his balls are starting to shine. He's a whimpering, mewling mess. Tears stream down into his sideburns and his lips are bruised and swollen from biting them over and over.

"Sweetheart. Tony. Tony, you're doin' swell. Do you know how good you are, how good you look? I want you so much, I just need you to look at me. I need to know you really want this, I need to know you know I would never do anything to hurt you. Please, Tony. Please, look at me."

Tony's leaking so much now that Steve could ride him without any prep; all he would have to do is strip and he'd be able to lower himself inch by slick inch on to Tony's incredible dick. He made love to Tony this morning and it was Steve's turn to feel that beautiful, aching, fullness. He reminds himself once again that this isn't his Tony, unable to stop himself from thinking of his lover though he knows he shouldn't. And he knows his Tony; knows he would only be sorry that he missed it. He'll want a play by play when he gets back, possibly a complete reenactment. So Steve has to make this good. Not just for the Tony falling apart beneath him, not just for himself, but for his Tony, too.

Steve is destroying him; he's nearly spent and Steve has yet to touch his cock or slip his long artist's fingers into the slick openness of his ass, ready to take everything Steve can give him.

"Tony," Steve uses his command voice, guilt digging deeper into his core, hoping Tony won't be reminded of this the next time they're in the field; though, God help him, the sight of Tony's dick twitching at the sound is now permanently etched into Steve's mind.

Tony's having trouble thinking, soon he won't have even the small measure of control he been able to exert so far, while Steve is, as in most things, unmovable. Tony knows it's only a matter of time before he cracks; and if Steve keeps drawing this out Tony knows he will and he can't disappoint his alpha, he can't.

"Tony," Steve's breath caresses the soaking tip of his cock and Tony has to risk it; he braces his wrists together, reminding himself of Steve's words, 'Good, that's good Tony. Stay like that for me, please.' and damn it he can stay, he can be good. He opens his eyes and looks down into Steve's.

"Pleeeeease, please, Steve, I need you," Tony's sobbing entreaty isn't pulled out of his throat, it's pulled out of his soul.

Tony watches him with those big brown eyes of his as Steve finally sinks his mouth down around his dick. Tony tastes amazing, like his Tony only more so, sharper some how and it fills up Steve's senses until all he wants to do is taste, and taste, and taste.

Tony is twisting on the bed; miraculously, his hands are still where Steve placed them a lifetime ago, his hips are straining against Steve's hands as he pulls off with a loud slurp, "It's alright, Tony; move for me."

Steve emphasizes each sentence with a swipe of his tongue, "Go ahead."

He can't believe how wet Tony still is and he mouths first one ball, "Touch me."

And the other, "Touch yourself."

He licks up between Tony's balls, then further up his shaft, lapping at Tony's precome with his tongue, sucking the tip and before returning to his balls.

"Please?" Tony whimpers, he still hasn't moved his arms, as though he's waiting for something more.

Steve caresses his hands back to Tony's ass and lifts him up, urging Tony to put his legs over Steve's shoulders, given him complete access to Tony's body, "Please what, sweatheart?"

Steve licks the wetness from Tony's thighs, and this is different too, it tastes both sweeter and brighter than his precome; he follows it up Tony's legs to his ass, he spreads Tony's cheeks, baring his pink puckered hole, watching the mesmerizing sight of it fluttering and glistening, "Please what, Tony? Tell me what you need. All you have to do is ask."

Steve has given Tony permission to move, but he hadn't punctuated it with the 'Good boy' he so desperately needs to hear, Steve's mouth on his cock, his balls, up his thighs, he's afraid Steve might actually be trying to drive him mad; but no, he said Tony could move, and he's asking Tony to tell him what he needs. Tony can feel the blush steal over him at what he wants, that he has to ask for to get it. It won't be the same if he has to ask for it, but now he has to, he doesn't have a choice, his alpha demands it and he is Steve's fully, completely, in every way; this deep in his heat he has no dignity, no pride, just an ache that can only be eased by his mate claiming him. His voice is small as he pleads,"I'm a good boy?"

"Oh sweetheart!" Guilt's gnashing teeth are at him again. He saw Tony's reactions to the praise earlier; how could he have missed how the important the words are to him, "So good, how could you not know how good you are, how perfect. So open, so well behaved, you're my good boy aren't you?"

It's like a switch has been flipped, or chains unlocked. Tony practically bends himself him half, Steve has a moment to marvel at his flexibility and then Tony's tongue is in his mouth, his hands grabbing Steve's shirt. He's pulling so much at the fabric that Steve thinks he may rip it, and as much as Tony promises to by him another shirt, buy him a hundred more shirts, he likes the ones he has, they're broken in just the way he likes them; he barely has enough presence of mind to pull back from the earth shattering kiss, "Just a second, sweetheart, just a second."

He sets Tony's legs down gently to either side of his knees and pulls his shirt over his head, snagging his dog tags as he does so. He quickly untangles them, getting ready to put them on again as he only really feels naked without them, when he sees Tony watching them, his eyes wide with need. "Tony," he asks, brushing his thumb across Tony's brow and then cupping his face, "Would you feel better wearing these?"

He's hoping it's not too much, but from everything Tony's said and done it seems like something he needs; Steve is nervous at guessing, but he doesn't let it show, swallowing down his unease.

Tony bows his head, "Yes, please." Steve had never offered him something like this before, but now Tony feels like he's passed some sort of test; as though all of the pain and pleasure had been leading towards this.

Steve pulls Tony up on his knees; once he's steady Steve drapes the chain over Tony's head and then tilts his face up, kissing his eyelids, the tip of his nose, each cheek, his top and bottom lip, his chin, goatee tickling his lips. He returns to Tony's lips, gently licking them open, Tony letting him take control for once (something's not right about that), opening his mouth and letting Steve in, offering his tongue to the altar of Steve's mouth.

Steve deepens the kiss, even on their knees Steve is taller and he's easily able to hold Tony's head at just the right angle beneath him, able plunder the sweetness of Tony's lips. He pulls Tony close, skin and metal and light flush to chest and he growls in Tony's ear, "MINE."

He isn't sure where the possessive streak comes from, but it's there, under his skin. Tony is his and here, now, the Tony in his arms is the only one he's thinking of. (He's forgetting something important, except it can't be important. The most important thing in his life is right in front of him.)

Tony is shaking apart; never in his life has he felt so owned, fully belonging to Steve, only Steve could make him feel this way, and it was worth it, so worth it. All of the pain and doubt, the fear; all of it is washed away on a wave of light.

All this and Steve hasn't even knotted him yet. He never knew anything like this was possible. That doesn't mean he doesn't still crave Steve, he needs him deep inside, but he actually feels like he could wait now; for as long as Steve needs him to. He finally feels whole, complete. His life has a core meaning, Steve is his North Star and he promises them both never to lose faith in him again.

"Hands and knees, sweetheart," Steve whispers into his ear and he feels faint with longing. Just because Steve's strength can keep him waiting, taut as a bowstring, for as long as Steve wants him to wait, doesn't mean he isn't ready NOW.

"Good boy," Steve will never forget again, he can't believe he'd failed Tony like that, Tony feeds on positive feedback, it gives him life, and Steve promises them both that he will always let Tony know how good he is, how proud he makes Steve.

Steve pulls Tony's ass up, leaning over and inhaling his sumptuous scent as he spreads Tony open. It's harder to see with the arc reactor shining down into the smooth darkness of their sheets and Steve is tempted to flip Tony, but he looks so good like this, "That's it sweetheart, open up for me."

Steve buries his nose in Tony's cleft; he smells sweet and warm, like coming home after having been gone far too long.

Steve teases them both for as long as he can before he reaches up to press Tony's shoulders to the bed, "Hold yourself open for me, love."

(Something's wrong) Steve shakes off his discomfort, nothing is wrong, this is perfect, "Perfect Tony, good boy."

He uses his thumbs to stretch Tony's hole before licking up the sweet nectar from his shining ring. "Gonna open you up, babe (wrong wrong wrong)... Stretch you out... Get you ready for me... Would you like that? Would you, Tony? Are you going to be my good boy (something's nothing's wrong)?"

"Yesss! Yours!" Tony is past thinking, past moving, he holds himself open as wide as he can for his mate, nails digging into to keep from letting go, stroking his cock. Steve said 'Open', and 'Good boy,' and he is a good boy which means shoulders down, ass up, and cheeks pulled wide. He's a sweaty, sticky mess, all throbbing need, "Your good boy."

Steve's tongue is hot against him, licking and thrusting, and he's sucking when suddenly it's too much, he lets go of his ass and clutches at the bedsheets, moaning and shaking, "Steeeeve, Steve."

"You're good, love. You're good."

Steve stands off the bed, shucking off his pants and boxer briefs, the button flying (no, wrong) in his impatience; why was he even wearing pants?

"You're so wet, so open. Such a good boy," Steve's inside him in one long thrust. It lasts forever and then is over much too quickly as he pulls back; but it's okay, everything is fine, everything is perfect, because Steve is thrusting into him again and Tony is boneless, weightless. Steve's chain is around his neck and his cock is plunging into him and he's full and fulfilled. He is perfect, he's Steve's perfect, perfect, good boy.

Tony is tight and slick around him, squeezing him just right, and he's digging bruises into Tony's hips, but that's okay (no it's not), because Tony likes it, some nights he begs for it, for Steve to grip him hard, leaving his hand prints on Tony's delicate skin.

Tony's shaking and crying as he thrusts back, fucking himself on Steve's dick as much as Steve's fucking into him. He wants more, he wants brand himself on Tony's skin. He lifts Tony up and back, grateful for the strength that lets him fuck Tony up and down on his dick, Tony's practically a rag doll in his arms (wrong), head leaning back on Steve's shoulders, letting Steve do all the work, moving Tony where he wants him, how he wants him.

Tony has his hands on Steve's wrists, not grasping or trying to direct, just as another point of contact. Every breath is a whine or moan, sometimes clear enough for Steve to hear his name, and once "Alpha" (what?); and laced throughout, "Yours, yours, yours."

Tony has his throat bared and Steve doesn't even think to resist the urge to bite and suck, leaving not only bruises but teeth marks. Tony's legs twitch, he's bent them back so that the tops of his ankle rest on Steve's calves, he's held up by nothing but Steve's arms and dick and Steve feels a rush of power, "MINE!"

"YOURS!"

Steve pushes Tony to the bed, using his legs to pin Tony's together, still thrusting, always thrusting, into his tight warm hole. The room's gone dark (wrong, very wrong, emergency klaxons are going off in Steve's head, but he can't hear them through the all consuming haze of lust, and want, and MINE), he wraps his fist in his chain around Tony's neck and pulls it taut against Tony's throat to drag him as close as possible; losing himself to the animal need coursing through his veins.

Tony's sobbing in the dark, choking out, "Please. Pleeease. Yours! Please."

(His hind brain has locked out all of his conscience's shouting that something is wrong. Dreadfully. Terribly. Wrong.)

"Come on, love, almost there, so close."

Tony is keening, thrusting and squeezing back with his ass, thrusting forward to rub his cock on the sheets, even their silky micro fiber is rough against his skin. He's having trouble breathing, with the pressure on his chest and the chain around his neck, he feels completely controlled, possessed by his alpha so that every beat of his heart, every gasp of sweet air is a gift from his mate.

"That's it love, finish for me, such a good boy, I want to feel you spend around me."

Tony's lost, nothing exists but the tight, dark, heat of his alpha, surrounding him and filling him. He can't help but obey, climaxing into the sheets.

Tony shudders around him, hot and perfect and Steve follows Tony's release with his own, spilling into Tony's sweet ass. He collapses on Tony's back, oblivious to the screaming in the back of his mind.

Chapter 8

He thinks he may have blacked out for a moment and then panics as he realizes the room is dark. Their room is never dark, not with Tony's heart condition, and he can feel Tony shaking beneath him.

Beneath him? Oh God, "TONY!"

Steve pulls out of Tony painfully fast, "Tony? Mr. Stark? Oh, Jesus, sweetheart, say something!"

He turns Tony over gently, relief pouring through him as Tony looks up at him with tear stained eyes, he barely whispers, "Steve? What did I do wrong?"

"Oh, honey, nothing, you've done nothing wrong," Steve hesitates, Tony's obviously in shock, and he needs someone to hold him. Steve should do the responsible thing and call Bruce, but he can't, not yet. Tony is looking up at him as though he holds his entire world and has he power to crush it between his fingers; he'd looked defeated at first, but at Steve's words a spark of hope flashes in his eyes.

"Then why..." he can't bring himself to say it. Steve had brought him to the most mind blowing orgasm of his life and then must have pulled out enough to not lock his knot in Tony when he came. Every second of today had been a rollar coaster of emotions, at this point his heart won't survive another hit, but he has to know. He reaches out forlornly, "Why didn't you.. Why did you leave me?"

Steve's breath catches in his throat, "I'm not going anywhere. Here, let me under you."

Steve sits back against the wall, carefully gathering Tony to him. Sitting in a way that would let Tony get away from him as quickly as possible. Everything blurs together, but he knows he has to remember; and once he does he worries if he'll be able to live with himself.

His thoughts keeps flashing to those last few moments, Tony pinned beneath him, sobbing into the dark. Steve chokes back a sob of his own. His fist had been wrapped tight around the chain Tony still wore around his neck.

They were always so careful; Tony is justifiably terrified of having his airways blocked and Steve has always respected those boundaries, careful to never pin Tony's chest down, or hold him too tightly.

He kisses Tony's neck softly in contrition, horrified at the marks he's left.

Tony shakes in Steve's arms. He hasn't answered Tony, not really, and now the the first wave of his heat is ebbing clarity is staring to creep in. He should get up, maybe head to the lab and review the data from the experiment, but he's so sore and so tired and he just hurts. Not just his body, with the post heat fever ebbing and the pleasant aches and pains from a marathon fuck, but with a hollow emptiness of going through a wave without actually getting knotted and the emotional devastation of being rejected by his mate. An alpha that still has his arms wrapped around Tony and is brushing soft kisses on every hickey and bite mark.

'M tired."

"I'm not surprised," Steve's voice has an edge of melancholy Tony can't pinpoint, "Do you want help cleaning up?"

Tony stiffens in his arms, and of course it was a mistake to offer, Tony always bathes alone. Always. He just seems so small, so fragile. He knows Tony, his Tony at any rate, hates to cuddle; he had just hoped to have more time to touch him, to reassure himself that Tony is alright.

"No...no, I can do it myself," Tony closes his eyes in pain. Regardless of what Steve says, or how comfortably wrapped around Tony he is, he's obviously done something to upset his mate; refusing to knot him is one thing (one very painful thing), but to ask Tony to clean off his scent almost immediately afterward? Tony can barely even process it. He shrugs out of Steve's arms and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door carefully behind him even though all he wants to do is slam it.

Ten minutes later he comes out of the en suite with a towel draped around his hips, water dripping down his chest, the arc reactor lighting up individual droplets like blue diamonds. He pats his beard dry with a second towel, looking over to see Rogers had half covered himself with a sheet, watching him anxiously.

"All clean," he says with a brittle smile, "And I didn't drown or anything."

He's not prepared for the shocked look of horror Steve gives him, quickly covered by his stoic 'Captain America' face. Tony quickly closes himself in the closet.

Jesus, he really has FUBARed things for Tony to bring up Afghanistan so baldly. Steve tries to hold it together but he can't; he races for the bathroom barely making it to the john before he loses his stomach.

Does Steve really think him so fragile as to kill himself over a love affair past it's prime? So he and Steve didn't work out. So what. Happens (to him) all the time. Sure, he's never been... He bites his tender lip and forces himself to think it, 'Renouced.' (But then, he's never be foolish enough to get mated, not before Steve.) Fuck it. He doesn't need an alpha to live his life, he's Tony Stark for fuck's sake, not to mention his pretty decent side gig as Iron Man. He was both before Steve Rogers came into his life and he'll be both without him. Sure, this probably means no more Avengers (not unless he wants to submit to Romanov, the thought alone making him shudder), and but how long was this going to last, really? They can keep the Tower, he'll move back to Malibu... And what the hell is going on?

He searches the drawers three more times and can't find a single one of his heat flight suits. Everything slots into place and he feels the world drop out from under him.

He comes out of the closet dressed in one of the regular flight suits, damp towels in hand; Steve is standing warily in the light of the bathroom door.

Tony clears his throat and cautiously approaches Steve. It makes perfect sense now; and fuck, he's lucky this Steve is such a stand up alpha. He's betting Mirror Tony hasn't been able to go two feet without getting fucked into next week. But since he's likely on the same heat cycle (or, based on his closet he's a beta, or maybe even an alpha, and how weird is that?) Tony hopes his Steve is the first to find him; fair's fair after all, and he'll be a little disappointed in himself if when he gets back if he finds out other him left his Steve high and dry.

"Hi, I'm Tony Stark," he holds out his hand and Steve shakes it carefully, "I know you've, you know, been inside me and all, but I thought maybe we should be formally introduced? Sorry for freaking out on you there, I just realized I'm not from around here."

He shrugs and offers his most apologetically charming smile, "You know how heats go. So. Ah, thanks for not knotting me and all? We should totally do this again sometime."

Chapter 10 (9 is all meta, see the AO3 post for details)

He practically runs down to the hanger to inspect the Mark 6b, "Oh you poor, poor, baby! I can't believe he turned you into a sex toy! It's okay, Daddy's here, you're in a safe place."

Tony pets the armor, checking it over and pulling up its schematics on the monitor recessed into the display case. It actually isn't as bad as he thought it would be based on Rogers' drowsily mumbled explanation, but it's still a bit of a shock. After he's satisfied his morbid curiosity he starts making his way back to the R & D labs.

The elevator door is caught by Phil before it shuts, "Hey Agent, what flo-"

One second he's reaching towards the buttons and the next Phil has him pinned against the back wall of the elevator, one thigh pressing between his legs as he grabs Tony's jaw and forces his head to the side, inhaling deeply as he licks a warm, wet stripe up Tony's throat.

He needs to diffuse this, fast. He's got a quip on the tip of his tongue, ('Use your words, Tony') but then Phil's biting down and no. No, Tony has had ENOUGH.

He brings his arms up and out, throwing Phil back and then adjusting his stance defensively, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!"

Phil, or rather, Agent Coulson's lips curl in a predatory manner, which definitely makes Tony's Top Ten List of 'Terrifying Shit I Never Want to See Again', "Come on, Stark, you're practically begging for it."

Tony is actually speechless, his jaw drops and he's unable to do more than stare incredulously at Coulson.

"If you get on your knees right now like a good boy maybe, if I'm feeling generous, I'll leave something for Natasha to play with."

Tony feels a sick sense of cold dread in the pit of his stomach, he can tell by the set of Coulson's shoulders he's deadly serious, "I think maybe I should explain; I am not-"

Damn, who knew Phil could be so quick. Coulson's got him in an arm lock between one breath and the next, slamming Tony up against the back wall of the elevator with enough force that he loses his breath in an undignified yelp. Coulson twists his wrist painfully.

Tony gasps, "You're pretty spry for a glorified pencil pusher, Agent."

Coulson snarls behind him, pressing his hard dick against the cleft of Tony's ass, which puts more pressure on his aching wrist. Tony's free hand scrabbles back, trying to find something soft to dig into.

"I'd watch that pretty mouth of yours, Stark," Coulson does something beyond painful to a pressure point in Tony's captured hand; he feels light headed and his knees go weak. He has to stop his pathetic attempts to claw at Coulson in order to brace himself against the wall.

"God knows why Steve indulged it, but now that he's obviously renounced you," oh, fuck, that's Coulson's tongue on his neck again; Tony tries to scramble away from it but is stopped by the light show flashing in his eyes accompanied by jagged streaks of pain racing to his elbow, "And you're in the middle if a heat, you're going to need someone..."

Tony strains against Coulson's hold but stops as nausea threatens to overwhelm him.

"Someone to hold you," Coulson reaches around to palm his dick, which Tony swears is trying to follow his balls as they draw up in fear.

"Someone to fuck you," he pulls Tony back into him with the hand on his dick as he thrusts against his ass.

Tony shivers in horror, his mind is starting to blank out, the edges of his vision blur and only now realizes he's been whispering a steady stream of, "No no no no no no no..."

"Someone to tame you," Coulson bites down hard managing to seat his teeth into Rogers bite mark from earlier and worry at it like a dog.

No.

NO.

"NO!" Tony is not getting raped by Agent Mild Mannered; he will not let this happen. He can't fight him off, but he's good with his words, and he can stop this, "STOP! Coulson, STOP. I'm not your Tony Stark."

Coulson chuckles darkly, causing Tony's stomach to twist, "Not yet, but you will be."

Jesus, he's pulling Tony's zipper and not listening, and this isn't his Agent, his Phil. Phil would never, could never do this. His Phil might threaten to taze...

Okay, Bad Idea.

Really. Bad. Idea.

This could get him killed.

But the alternative might be worse.

"I'll be good! I'll be good."

Coulson purrs, actually fucking purrs, "I knew you would be."

He palms Tony through his shorts before letting him go, tongue leaving a warm trail of spit on his neck. He manhandles Tony, grabbing his head in a vice and pulling him into a position to suit him; Coulson's thumb brushes over Tony's lower lip, still tender from Rogers perfect even teeth, and Tony can't keep the whimper from his throat, "No biting, Anthony."

Coulson captures his mouth in a dangerous kiss, Tony has to fight himself to keep from struggling. He's not sure where he summons up the will to part his lips, opening himself up to his rapist.

'Attempted rapist. Stay focused, Stark. You have a plan now. Stick to the plan.'

Hard fingers dig into his shoulder as Coulson pushes Tony down to his knees.

"Can I?" Tony breathlessly nuzzles Coulson leg.

'Just a little longer,' the timing has to be just right. No way he gets more than one shot at it.

He'd come across a video during his research that he'd thought was absolutely ridiculous but that had Roger's leaving bruises on his hips. He did his best to mimic the guy, the omega, from the clip, "Please? Please, I need it?"

Ugh. Gag him with a forklift. This is so over the top insane that if his non-existent virtue wasn't at stake he'd be laughing his ass off, 'Jesus, focus Stark, focus.'

Coulson pats his head and, miracle of miracles, Tony resists flinching; instead he leans into it, wrapping his arms around the agent's right leg.

Yep, right where Phil keeps it. Now just keep him distracted.

Tony tugs on Coulson's pant leg, using it as leverage to bring his head high enough to mouth at his belt buckle. He deserves a God damned Oscar for this. He looks up through his eyelashes and gives Coulson his patented 'liquid sex' look, "Please?"

Coulson's eyes flutter shut and this is it, the opening he'd been waiting for; he grabs the stun gun out of its ankle holster and pulls the trigger as he presses it against Coulson's leg.

Coulson drops.

Tony's not in the mood to be charitable, so he may stun him for longer than strictly necessary. He releases the trigger but viciously digs the weapon into Coulson's leg, just in case the asshole needs a reminder that it's there.

As Coulson's eyes clear Tony pushes down on his chest with his free hand, baring his teeth as he growls, "Stay. Down. I told you. I am not your Tony Stark. You're lucky I like you in my dimension, or you wouldn't be getting up at all. Come after me again and I'll rip your balls off and send them to Fury C.O.D. Are we clear?"

Coulson tips his head back, literally showing his throat as he spits out a weak, "Clear."

"Good. I'm keeping this," he twists the stun gun for emphasis, "Don't make me regret my sentimentality."

Chapter 11

'Do this again sometime?' God, his Tony has a gallows humor but Steve can't believe he's joking at a time like this.

"Mr. Stark, I'm the one that needs to apologize to you," and it's almost beyond Tony to keep a straight face as a naked Steve Rogers contritely apologizes for ringing him like the Liberty Bell (and yeah, totally need to do that again before he leaves) and without knotting him. The guy's willpower's got to be off the fucking charts. 'Heh, fucking charts', he should draw some up comparing and contrasting Steves, "I understand if you'd like... If you'd like to press charges."

"Wait, what? No! Why would I want to do that?"

"I assaulted you," Steve forces the thought that's been eating him up from the inside, a poison coursing through his soul, "I hurt you..."

Steve reaches out, fingers tracing the hickeys and bite marks, pulling his hand away as though burnt when he reaches the dotted red line from the chain of his dog tags, his stomach flipping. 'Jesus Christ!' he'd done that, he'd actually choked Tony while they had sex. He barely remembers doing it, his memory is a hazy pastiche of sweat and sound; and even as it fills him with dread he has to fight the lust thrumming through his veins, 'What kind of monster am I?'

Tony grabs his hand, pulling it back to rest against his throat, "Nothing happened that I didn't want, that I wouldn't willingly beg for again; with or without the heat. I appreciate you not locking us together, I can see how that could have gotten... Awkward. I even get you not letting me keep your mating scent-"

At first his mind is stubbornly fixed on the fact that it didn't matter if Tony would have consented to everything that had happened, Steve doesn't remember giving him the option. He desperately wishes he knew for certain that if Tony had struggled, or said no, or in anyway indicated he wasn't one hundred percent on board at any point, he would have stopped. But he just doesn't know. Dammit, he was so far gone he doesn't even remember grabbing the slick, he hopes to God Tony's throat is the worst of the damage he's caused.

He strokes Tony's throat with his thumb, the feel the chain beneath his fingers and against Tony's neck flaring a possessive rush of 'mine' that he has to tamp down on. Eventually Tony's words sink in and he interrupts him with a confused, "What?"

"No, no, I get it, I really do... But I would like get to the lab and if its not too much trouble I'd rather not go out there with a neon flashing sign that says 'FUCK ME'. Just a provisional scent should be enough to make anyone think twice."

"I don't-" Tony cuts him off with a pained look before Steve can ask him what the hell he's talking about.

"Oh... Okay, then... I mean, I figured you wouldn't want me marked as your mate, I get that, but I'd rather not have Romanov or Coulson up my ass the second I'm out the door. I'm sure neither would be as gentle as y-"

"Tony, shush," Steve cuts him off with a gentle shake, "Just let me talk for a minute, wouldja?"

Tony pulse races under his palm and he looks up at Steve with those liquid brown eyes, pupils expanding as he leans into Steve's grip. He motions his finger and thumb across his mouth like a zipper and then rests the edge of his thumb on his lower lip, the pressure barely tugging on his kiss-bruised pout, parting his lips just enough to flick the tip of his tongue across the calloused digit.

Tony Stark has never played fair and he doesn't intend on starting now.

Steve closes his eyes with an all too familiar and no less sincere prayer for serenity. Tony's name sighs from between his lips before he can restrain it and he has to tighten his grip on Tony's neck to keep the older man from stepping into his space to press against his flushed body; Steve swallows down the thrill of want as he feels the chain trapped beneath his hand rub against Tony's skin.

He clears his throat before beginning again, this time managing to suppress the proprietorial burr; knowing it's useless to hide how obviously aroused as he is. It takes all his training to keep his voice level, almost impersonal, as he looks down at Tony, "I have no idea what you mean by 'marking', but I am pretty sure it's not something we do here. Natasha and Phil are your friends, neither one would ever act inappropriately towards you. That being said if it's what you need to be comfortable, I'll do what I can."

Tony's actually stopped with the bedroom eyes, one eyebrow raised as he tried to decipher Steve's words, "So are you saying you don't want to come on my face before I head out because you respect me? That is seriously fucked up."

Chapter 13 (12 = meta)

Tony leaves Phil Agent Coulson on the elevator floor, one foot pressed on his chest and gripping the stun gun tightly, until they reach the 24th floor. He takes moment to glare at Coulson who promptly lowers his eyes; which, if anything, makes Tony want to freak out even more. He debates kicking the bastard while he's down and settles for moving his toe to rest without any weight against Coulson's throat, "C.O.D., Coulson. Tell me I'm bluffing."

Coulson swallows before answering with quiet conviction, "You're not bluffing."

"Good boy," Tony snarls before stalking out of the elevator.

His already demolished mood dives even further as he gets his first look at Lab 24b. The bots have done what they can, but with Bruce 'tied up' with Natasha (and he definitely plans on finding out more about that later), JARVIS is on his own; and having to direct them via dial up it was slow going at best.

"Hey, kids, miss me? How's the search and rescue going?"

JARVIS's voice sounds like it's coming from a tin can, "Good Afternoon, Master Stark. I'm afraid there isn't much left to salvage. I've had what I could moved to Laboratory 36c as you requested, but we basically need to manufacture the entire array from scratch."

"Master, JARVIS? Really? What, am I in short pants again?"

"My apologies, Mister Stark, I didn't mean to presume-"

"No, no. It's fine JARVIS, just... how 'bout we stick with 'sir'?

"As you wish. Sir."

"Okay, priority one is getting you back online here. You sound like you've got a cold, and I'm not running the risk of adjusting the config on the fly without you. Once you're up and running we can work on the rest."

"Very well, sir. Estimated time to full reset is 6 days, 12 hours and 43 minutes."

"What!?"

"Would you like that to the second, sir?"

"No," Tony said, mirroring JARVIS's sarcasm, "I want to know why the hell it's going to take that long. I'm serious, drop everything else. I need you, and I need you now."

"Sir, you will have to manually replace the damaged hardware yourself, and with your heat cycle-"

"Stop. Stop right there. I don't have heats, I'm not an omega, or an alpha beta theta pi whatever. Jesus, what's up with Greek? Don't answer that. Get back to work and let me know when the new components are ready for install. I'm heading up to 36 to get started there."

"As you wish, sir. Estimated time to full reset without pausing for heat waves will be 2 days, 20 hours and 52 minutes. And 15 seconds." Fftt. Moody A.I. "May I remind Sir that Tony Stark Prime-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, why does he get to be Prime? And what does that make me?"

"...As he is intrinsic to this dimension and you are the... visitor-"

"Fine! Fine, whatever, he can be Prime. ('Fucker.') So... What have you been calling me JARVIS?"

...

"That bad, huh?"

...

"JARVIS?"

"... Tonyj?"

Tony tries, he honestly tries, but the laughter comes bubbling out in spite of all his good intentions. By the time he settles down he's feeling much better, most of the stress that had built up ebbing away. He wipes tears from his face and barely manages to keep himself from another fit of giggling as he gasps, "Well, I guess it's only fair after all the time you've been my imaginary friend that I get to be yours."

"I'm still not eating your peas for you."

It's several minutes before Tony is able to hold a normal conversation.

"Hey, JARVIS?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Sir. Anytime."

"So, you were saying about Prime me?"

"Yes. Tony Prime will either have to obtain heat suppressants or be out of commission for most of the next week. Either way I estimate it to be another 6.5 days before he will have the array set up on his end."

"Alright. Keep me posted. Oh, and send Bruce upstairs once he's free."

\---

Tony is relived to find the elevator empty on his way up to the new lab. He's still feeling on edge from- well from the entire day if he's being honest with himself. Which is setting a bad precedent and he decides to stop as soon as possible, preferably with alcoholic assistance.

Except, shit, yeah; liberal application of his favorite pain killer is one thing at home, but just a bit to much of a risk here; one more thing to dislike about the whole experience.

He never thought he would say this, but there are some things mind blowingly awesome sex just can't make up for.

Like that smell. Jesus, it's like Hef's zoo in here and while fucking Miss February out by the monkey cages had been awesome ('A+, or, more accurately, DDD+'), if he'd had it to do over again he would have talked her into the grotto instead.

Bruce comes into the lab as he finishes his 2nd scotch (he said he wasn't going to get drunk, not that he was going to stop being Tony Stark, for fuck's sake) and slips past a lab stool to lean one hip against the counter.

Tony stares into his empty glass mournfully before setting it aside.

"Damn, Banner, you look like shit. No offense."

Bruce sighs, "Thanks Tony. Let's see how good you look with a second alpha."

"Oh, shit! No one's told you. Hi! I'm Tony in Wonderland," he shakes Banner's hand across the counter, "And before you assume, I'm not an alpha, omega, or any fucked up thing in between."

"It worked? Weren't you, or, I guess, Tony, just going to observe? How-?"

"No clue, but I'm hoping you and that big beautiful brain of yours can help. I mean, if you're up for it that is. You really look like you should be in bed?"

Bruce blushes, and it's just as adorable as it always, though Tony isn't even trying to lace any extra meaning into the question. Bruce really does look exhausted. So yeah, little weird, but definitely some potential for a little harmless flirting here.

"You know," Tony said softly, not releasing Bruce's hand, his thumb brushing lightly back and forth across Bruce's skin; continuing with a charming smile, "If your up for something else..."

Bruce pulls away with a gasp, pressing his hand over his mouth, eyes wide with shock.

"Relax, big green," Tony starts, his Bruce would have just rolled his eyes. He was only trying to see how much he could fluster this Bruce. He feels a stab of guilt; he hadn't expected Bruce to react with near horror. The stun gun is a heavy weight in his pocket as he pulls his hands up and back in a pacifying gesture, "Sorry, hey, I'm sorry, Bruce. I didn't mean-"

"Are you insane?!? What if Natasha or Phil had walked in?"

"What?! You're with that psychopath!?"

"Don't start, Tony. I know you have your reasons for not trusting her, but she really isn't like that."

"That's n-"

"Tony."

Natasha's voice is cold, even colder than that time he accidentaly replaced her shampoo instead of Clint's with purple hair dye. Sub zero taken to astronomical levels. Bruce bites his lower lip as she says, "Phil advised me to keep my distance, but when JARVIS called Bruce out of bed I had to see the man with the balls to think he could order my boy around."

She walks up behind Bruce, impossibly silent on her stilettos, and runs her fingers through the unruly curls at the base of his neck. Bruce stares at the floor as he whispers, "You said I could..."

Natasha grabs a handful of the silky locks and pulls his head back sharply; he closes his eyes with a whimper, "Quiet."

"Whoa! Wait just a minute-" Tony's standing behind the counter and has pulled out the stun gun as surreptitiously as he can. Not that Natasha's not going to notice, but he is a genius; so while he's not planning any sudden moves, he's not leaving himself defenseless. In a world where Phil "Straight and Narrow" Coulson is a twisted caricature of himself he isn't about to take any chances with intramural espionage's MVP.

Natasha glares at him as she pulls steadily down until Bruce's knees are bent and his back arched, his neck low enough for her lean down to worry at it with her sharp white teeth. Bruce's lip is still trapped between his own teeth as he struggles unsuccessfully to hold in further whimpers. She turns Bruce's head and licks a broad stripe up his throat to his chin while locking eyes with Tony.

Tony can't help but admire Bruce's flexibility at the same time he is appalled by what's happening. He feels like he should stop this, but not only does he not know how, he's not sure Bruce would thank him. Bruce's eyes have flickered open and he's staring up at Natasha with adoration bordering on worship and his pants have tented with an impressive erection.

"Bruce, if you want me to I can leave you two to...?"

Natasha stares at him over Bruce's throat and growls, "Stay. Put."

Tony has apparently lost all sense of self preservation and readies the stun gun, staring right back a snarl curling his lip ('Where did that come from?') before looking back at Bruce, "Bruce. Bro. Your call. What do you want?"

Natasha's hand fists in Bruce's hair painfully as his eyes dart to Tony and are captured by the steadfast concern in his eyes.

"Stay?" he begs softly.

"Alright, buddy, then I'm not going anywhere," Bruce closes his eyes with relief as he arches further, displaying the long length of his body to Tony as he bares his throat to his alpha, "But you say the word and this stops."

Bruce whines out a soft, "No. Please, Tash- Alpha. Please, let me show him- show you, I'm yours."

Natasha growls again and pushes Bruce forward until his top half is pressed against the counter, he pushes up on his toes, presenting his ass to her, "Good boy, Bruce. Strip."

"Hey! Whoa! Bruce...? Seriously!?"

"Please, Tony?" Bruce's glasses have gone askew and his hair is even messier than usual, he looks up with so much need Tony has to shut his eyes.

His hand tightens around his weapon and he nods, swallowing before opening his eyes again.

Natasha pins Bruce down with a hand on his neck as she once more locks eyes with Tony. Tony holds her gaze, he can feel Bruce looking at him; but as much as he wants to look down at Bruce and reassure him (reassure himself), he knows it'd be a mistake to break eye contact with Natasha.

Fuck; unless it's a mistake to hold it.

Double fuck; damned if he's going to let another one of these God damned alpha fucks push him around.

Out of the corner his eye he sees Bruce's struggle to stay flat against the counter as he unbuttons his shirt and drops it to the floor; his hands shake as he undoes his fly and pushes down his slacks and underw- wait no, no underwear. Okay then. Tony catches a glimpse of Bruce's impressive length, swollen, dark, and shining with precome, before Natasha pushes him up against the counter with a slim hand against his ass, more gentle than Tony would have expected.

He wants to say something to break the tension but he's pretty sure it would just make things worse. Let it be said that on this day Tony Stark learned to keep his fucking mouth shut.

He and Natasha continue their battle of wills as she slowly works her fingers into Bruce one at a time; a sweet scent fills the air and Tony feels his dick stir. She's calmly telling Bruce, "That's it, baby, take it, you can take it for me, can't you? Such a good boy for me."

Bruce's hands are grabbing at the smooth counter top and Natasha orders, "Hands back."

Bruce sighs in relief and rests the back of his wrists in the small dip of his spine.

"Bruce, tell Tony whose ass is this."

"Yours, Tasha. Yours. Please? Please, more?"

"You want my knot, baby? You want me to fuck you hard, show Tony who you belong too?"

Fuck, this shouldn't be as hot as it is. He expected Natasha to be distant, or violent, but the hand at Bruce's neck isn't trapping him, it's as though she is holding him safe, caressing in time with the hand buried between his cheeks, keeping a point of contact as she works four fingers into his stretched hole. She leans over his body, biting up his shoulder blade to his neck, keeping her eyes on Tony.

Bruce shivers, keening, "Yours. Need you. Please? I'll be good."

"You are good, love, you are. You're always so good for me."

That shocks Tony more than anything about this whole encounter, the affection in her voice is identical to his Natasha's when she's teasing Clint about his stupid dog show, admiring Steve's latest sketch, or watching Tony hack a governmental database when one of their drunken games of one upsmanship has spiraled out of control.

Natasha's looking right at him as she says it, and she's a spy, she lies the way most people breathe, but it's the truth. He can see it's the truth and he nods once, acknowledging her claim before looking down at Bruce and cataloging the data he sees.

Bruce's pupils are blown wide, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes; his hips are twitching, it looks like he wants to push back onto Natasha's hand but doesn't, staying where she's put him. His dark curls are damp and sticking to his face and he licks his lips as he watches Tony take it all in.

Natasha pets his head, "I'm going to pull back now, baby, just for a second, but I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

She slips her fingers out of him and licks them clean with cat-quick laps of her tongue, her green eyes practically glowing.

Bruce frowns, looking panicked, and a lifetime of practice has Tony acting before he can think, setting aside Bruce's glasses with his free hand and then stroking his fingers down the side his face, "It's okay, Bruce, it's okay she's just getting ready for you."

He keeps the fear out of his eyes as he looks back at Natasha; she's completely unzipped her leather catsuit and has an intimidatingly large, dark red strap-on at the juncture of her thighs. She's appraising him, but it looks like he's not in danger of losing his hand so he keeps petting Bruce.

"Hold yourself open for me, love. That's it, wider. Wide as you can." Bruce is panting, his exposed pucker is red and swollen and this is going to hurt him, no way it can't even as wet and loose as he is.

"You're.. You're not-"

She starts to slowly work the tip of her dick into him, "No, baby, we promised, but you'll see, you will. Some day you will be a great mother."

"No," Bruce bites out stubbornly, letting go of his ass and standing suddenly, surprising Tony. Bruce yelps as she slips in deeper, with more speed and roughness than could be good for is already abused looking hole.

"What-" Tony's cut off by Natasha.

"Shhh, shh, Bruce, Bruce, down sweet boy, down." She's kneading his shoulders and pressing kisses against the back if his neck, "We promised, didn't we? Have we ever broken our promises?"

Bruce is still frowning, fists clenching and unclenching at his side, barely able to resist her command mid-wave as he is and her dick pressing in all the right places. Fear and need struggle across his face, he looks like he wants to cry. Tony is at a total loss as Bruce pulls closer to him and away from Natasha, sliding off of the strap on as he chokes out, "You have."

You'd think it'd be ridiculous, Bruce has fifty pounds on her (not that that is saying much) and is completely naked, she's completely clothed, just a long strip of pale skin down between her breasts to where her red strap-on glistens with Bruce's moisture; however, it's anything but. Tony's turned on and confused, he wants to leap over the counter and gather Bruce to him, to tell him everything will be okay. He's definitely going to stop betting himself things can't get any weirder.

Bruce curls into himself and biting his fist as he shakes; Natasha carefully strokes her hand down his back, "Phil then, baby, has Phil ever lied?"

Tony swallows down a growl, adjusting his grip on the stun gun at Coulson's name.

Bruce takes a trembling breath, "No. No, Phil never lies."

"And he promised for both of us, right?"

Bruce nods.

"And he wouldn't lie to you for me, would he?"

He shakes his head.

"But you're still scared?"

Bruce stills like a deer in headlights, and Natasha brushes her fingers down his arm, pulling his hand back and up, kissing the palm, "Answer me, malysh."

He ever so carefully nods his head once.

"That's okay, sweetheart, it's alright, come here," she presses down on his shoulders and turns Bruce so he's kneeling before her, "Here, taste, nothing but you, love, all you."

Bruce flicks a tentative tongue across the tip of her strap on and his smile is like the sun breaking through storm clouds before he's swallowing down to the root, slurping and sucking without any inhibition. Natasha threads her fingers through his hair as she guides his head, "You will see someday, malysh, you will."

Bruce pulls back to shake his head 'no' before diving back down to lap up and down the length of her dick. His hands span her narrow waist as he lips and nips playful at the slick red silicone.

"Phil promised," he says as he glances up at her with his gorgeous brown eyes, his lips brushing the tip of her strap on.

"He did, baby, and he will keep his promise. But when the malo yastrebov come, and you hold them in your arms... You'll be a such beautiful mother."

It should be bizarre, listening to Natasha try to convince Bruce he'll be a good mom while he gives her an epic blowjob (which would seem like a waste, but they're both so into it; if it wouldn't be completely inappropriate he'd keep a copy of the security footage, or at least a couple stills. As it is he makes a mental note to have all of this deleted).

Bruce pulls back with a sob and buries his head against her stomach, wrapping his hands around her, "Send me away."

"Never, sweetheart," she holds him tight, "You're mine."

"Monster," Tony can hear Bruce whisper and his heart breaks a little, "Like dad... you should... won't be safe... No one is."

He wonders if this is why his Bruce always has a wall of reserve between himself and the rest of the world; he knows Bruce's history, read his file, but it's not like it's something you bring up over coffee and K-theory, 'Hey Bruce, is the other Guy the only reason you're single, or does it also have something to do with watching your piece of shit dad murder your mom?' No, not something to spring on a guy.

Tony knows from daddy issues and there's not a one of them that isn't brimming over with them. He isn't about to talk about Howard with anyone and sure as hell won't bring up anyone else's past first.

He catches Natasha's eye with a raised brow, asking what she'd like him to do, willing to follow her lead.

"Here, boy, up."

She helps Bruce to stand and guides him back over the counter top. She stretches out his hands overlapping his wrists and nods to Tony. "Hold him down. He's not going anywhere."

"Sure. Hey, Bruce, it's okay, we've got you," Tony sets aside the stun gun and helps stretch Bruce out, pinning his wrists down with one hand and cupping his face with the other, "You're staying right here, big guy."

Bruce presses a open mouthed kiss to the base of Tony's thumb.

Natasha repositions behind him and stretches him with her fingers again until he's moaning over the squelching noises, Bruce's scent fills the lab (he should really check the air recyclers after this); it smells so good it's a little hard to think, Tony's mouth is watering and he's uncomfortably hard.

"Who does this belong to, Bruce?"

"You, Tasha."

"And this?" she lines up and strokes his dick once, squeezing at the top as she slowly breaches him.

"Y...you, Tasha," he pants.

"Who do you belong to?" she holds his hips tight enough to leave bruises, pushing in slow inch by slow inch.

"You, Natasha! Alpha!" she seats herself fully, slipping her hands up and under his chest to bend him back until she can bite his neck, their movements so smooth they almost seem choreographed. She's squeezing Bruce's nipples, his arms are pulled tautly down by Tony's grip and as his shoulders arch he turns his head opening his neck further.

"You're not going anywhere love. We're never letting you go."

"Yours," he gasps.

Tony ignores the tear that slips down his face, they're beautiful together. He never thought he would feel honored to be an asexual part of a ménage à trois, but there it is.

They hold the position for an impossibly long time, Bruce is going to be sore for days, unless Tony or someone can convince him to let Hulk out for a bit. But maybe that's what he needs, to feel the burn and stretch now, followed by small constant aches reminding him of this moment every time he moves.

Natasha eventually takes her mouth from his neck and let's his chest go, fingernails combing down through his coarse chest hair to grasp his hips, "Ready, malysh?"

He nods as he lowers himself in slow motion, cradling his head on his outstretched arms.

She's not gentle now, fucking him hard and deep, each thrust bringing him up on his toes, nails digging into his hips. Tony tightens his grip on Bruce's wrists, giving him more bruises, Bruce bites and sucks at Tony's palm, moaning obscenely. Tony pulls his hand away and grabs Bruce's hair roughly, force Bruce to meet his eyes, "She's got you, Natasha's got you. You're staying right here, Bruce. No one's letting you go anywhere."

Bruce comes with a cry like salvation, streams of semen coating the side and top of the counter, and Natasha is right there with him; she throws her head back with an animalistic shout, thrusting in as far as she can.

They collapse to the counter, breathing heavy. Tony caresses Bruce's wrists and combs back his hair where it's stuck to his forehead before cautiously tucking a lock of Natasha's hair behind her ear. She smiles up up at him with a purr, a satisfied predatory sound.

Tony whispers, "He's yours."

She nods sleepily as Tony goes to get them a warm washcloth. He sets it beside them and then heads to the nap room; just big enough to hold a single bed, it also has a small attached bathroom. He splashes water in his face and then grips the sink as he studies himself in the mirror, "What the ever loving fuck just happened?"

His erection throbs as he goes over the last half hour. He glances to the door and back at himself. He shrugs as he licks his lower lip, what the hell, he hasn't been this horny this often since he was a teenager. He shuts the door and leans against it, opening his pants enough to pull out his aching dick, the elastic of his boxer briefs pressing up into his balls he strokes himself base to tip; 'Shit, yes!' he needed that. 'Lube, grab some lube,' at this rate he's going to end up chafed before the day is out; he lunges to the medicine cabinet, chuckling at the hungry look in his eyes as he swings open the mirrored door, grabbing the bottle of Liquid Sex and pushing himself back against the wall. He shakes as he drips the lube into his hand and tosses the bottle to the floor.

He wraps his hand around his dick, "Oh!" much better. The cool slick warms quickly and he's fast and dirty, the image of Bruce arching back into Natasha, wrists firmly pinned by Tony as she held Bruce as though he were the most precious thing in the world and Tony's gone.

After a bit he blinks, and, "Oops," he really should have had a towel ready. He half-heartedly cleans up after himself before heading back into the lab.

Bruce and Natasha are exactly where he left them, washcloth cooling on the counter. She's whispering to him softly in Russian, covering Bruce like blanket.

"Alright kids, enough afterglow," he claps twice, "I really do need Bruce's help..."

He trails off at Natasha's glare and Bruce's wounded look.

"Ooookay. Sure. More afterglow. I'll just..." he points over his shoulder.

As Tony goes to leave and Bruce says, "No, Tony stay. I can help while we're locked."

"Ummm, seriously?" how are they even- 'Nope, don't want to know.'

"Talk, talk, I do not mind," Natasha snuggles her nose into Bruce's hair.

"Uh, okay then," Tony waits a couple beats, to make sure they're for real.

Bruce is looking up at him expectantly; Tony pulls up the schematics for the Jabberwock's array, the image fuzzy and pixilated, but until they get JARVIS's interface fixed it's the best they've got.

...

Apparently you can get used to just anything', he thinks, waving to Natasha as she leaves twenty minutes later. She had wrapped her arms and legs around Bruce and rested her head on his shoulder as he leaned against the counter, animatedly discussing partial differentials and wincing happily when he moved too quickly. She helped Bruce dress before she left; pulling his pants on and groping him gently before slowly pulling the zipper closed, kissing up his chest with each button of his shirt, and finishing with a kiss that started with a swipe of her tongue across Banner's full lower lip and ended with Bruce propped breathlessly up on the counter by his elbows.

She had looked up from where she left Bruce staring at her with puppy dog eyes to reassess Tony.

He had inclined his head, holding her gaze steady and she returned his nod.

She cupped Bruce's cheek and smiled down at him, "Be good for Tony, and call Phil or I before your next wave hits."

"Yes, alpha."

She tosses a salute over her shoulder to Tony as she struts out of the room, Bruce and Tony diving back into their discussion as though they hadn't paused at all.

Chapter 14

Tony fingers the dog tags around his neck nervously. Steve convinced him he would be okay without any other signs of Steve's claim on him; in fact he had actually seemed horrified when Tony suggested he pee on his shoes if he wasn't comfortable coming on him. Tony's grateful Steve had been willing to press soft kisses up his neck and lick his throat as he pulled the dog tags out to rattle on top of Tony's shirt.

Lab 24b is in better shape than Tony had anticipated; torn metal stacked neatly in the corner, counters and floor swept clean.

"Hey, kids, miss me? How'd the search and rescue go?"

JARVIS's voice sounds like it's coming from a tin can, "Good Afternoon, sir. Unfortunately there wasn't much left to salvage. I took the liberty of moving what I could to 36c. I'm afraid we'll need to manufacture the entire array from scratch."

Huh. Weird. But, right, other Tony's not an omega, so he obviously would program a more deferential A.I. No big, just one other thing to get used too.

"Okay, priority one is getting you back online here. You sound like you've got a cold and I'm not running the risk of adjusting the config on the fly without you. Once you're up and running we can work on the rest."

"Very good, sir. Estimated time to full reset at the Tower is Tower is 2 days, 20 hours and 53 minutes"

"Really? Awesome! I have a small," Tony laughs quietly to himself with a smirk, "Or not so small side project. I'm heading up to 36 to get started there."

"Very good, sir. I will let Dr. Banner know to expect you."

"Huh, Mr. and Mrs. Smith let him off his leash?"

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Never mind, JARVIS," Tony waves his comment away as he leaves the lab. This could be very interesting. Bruce and he had flirted outrageously until Bruce had been claimed. If he was still a free agent in this dimension Tony would practically be criminal to not explore the possibilities now that he's got the opportunity.

Yet another uneventful elevator trip takes him up 12 floors; which is hella spooky, but he's not going to examine that horse too closely- no reason to risk breaking his current streak by invoking Murphy.

He clears his throat as he enters Lab 36c and Bruce looks away from a very grainy and complex image of what he's pretty sure is a DNA graph.

"Hello, Mr. Stark. How are you feeling," Bruce's smile is very un-Bruce-like, slightly sly with a touch of bitterness.

"Better, thanks. Is that me? Trying to clone the great and powerful Oz, Doctor Banner? I knew you couldn't get enough of me."

Bruce's laughs with more power than he's used to, and with that same dark edge as his smile. It's an exciting change from his normal bashfulness. Not that bashful doesn't look hot on the good doctor, but the more dominant vibe from this Bruce is a definite turn on, "Hardly. I have it on the best authority that a little Stark goes a long way."

Tony's jaw drops- Bruce is flirtatiously baiting him? Oh, this will be fun. He recovers quickly, hamming it up with an offended huff, "Little?"

"Sex tapes don't lie," Bruce says with a smirk.

"You've seen those?" He feels a weird sort of pride.

"I have eyes? Soooo, yes?" Interesting; Banner's blushing but doesn't stop his ribbing, "I think they show them on incoming flights as a PSA, 'Beware Tony Stark And His Infamous Libido.'"

'Heh.' he wonders what else he has in common with himself; up until now, it's like he keeps slamming head first into the differences, "Oh, well then, that's the problem. Those little airplane screens can't possibly do me justice. You should see it in HD."

"I, uh..." he hesitates. It looks like Bruce's dug himself into a hole he wasn't prepared to dig his way out of, but then he laughs, "I don't think that's necessary, though we could suggest it for movie night if you're that interested in defending your...honor?"

Tony plays with the top of his pants, "Or I could always give you a live demonstration?"

He pulls his bottom lip through his teeth and raises an eyebrow at Bruce, who holds his hands up in surrender, "I give, I give. I should know better than to play chicken with you."

"Hmmm, I've always stopped at the feathers, but I'm nothing if not adventurous."

Bruce's is laughing openly now, cheeks rosy and eyes crinkling, "Enough! Please, the less I know about you and your kinky escapades, the less permanent damage you'll do to my psyche."

"Your loss, big guy."

And possibly his. Tony fiddles with the dog tags. If Steve isn't going to claim him, really claim him, and his Steve isn't here, maybe he should see if Bruce is worthy of being his alpha while he's in this dimension.

Tony points to the chart, "So what is this?"

Bruce pulls the chart apart while lifting up another graph, the image fraying at the edges while in motion.

"Oh, you were right about one thing, this is you. You appear nearly identical to our dimension's Tony, but there are some interesting differences. For example, I have no idea what these do," he plays with the image until a couple of gene sequences flash.

"And your X and Y chromosomes are... Well, here..." Bruce overlaps two images, one labeled 'Tony' and the other 'Tony''. Tony hasn't done much work with genetics, and certainly isn't the expert Bruce is, but he can tell that while the basic shapes are the same there are noticeable differences.

"So for the remedial geniuses of the class, what exactly am I looking at?"

Bruce bumps his shoulder against Tony's with a half smile, "I was hoping you could tell me."

"Oh. Well... If I had to guess I would say it has something to do with your Tony being a beta?"

"What? Like part piscine?"

Tony snorts. If this dimension doesn't have betas, that could be why Steve keeps treating him like an equal; he's used to his Tony being an alpha instead if an omega. Not that it matters, he won't be here long enough for either of them to get used to the difference. Tony will just have to not to let it go to his head, "Okay, alpha then; though I never thought I'd be the type. Dear old dad must have been so proud."

"Whoa, let's hit pause for a moment, Tony. I have no idea what you mean by beta or alpha." Bruce knew better than to let Tony get off on a tangent about his father, it inevitably ends with at least one, and usually both, of them hungover, "Are those are sex characteristics in your dimension?

"Wait, you guys don't have alphas or betas? How does that even work?"

"Pretty well so far?" Bruce replied with a shrug.

"But how do you reproduce?"

"Well, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much-"

"So, is everyone an omega?" Tony holds up his hand, warding off Bruce's inevitable, 'What's an omega' question', "I mean, can everyone get pregnant?"

"What? No. Why, is that something everyone on your side of the invisible fence can do?"

"No," Tony says, fiddling with the images, suddenly subdued.

Bruce's takes of his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, "This is a very confusing conversation."

He sets the glasses aside as he clasps his hand companionably on Tony's shoulder, "I know I say that a lot, but this one really ranks up there."

Bruce is super cute when he's confused. And he smells really good. Really, really good. Tony cuddles in closer, hooking his arm around Bruce's waist and letting Bruce's arm rest across his shoulders. "I never though I'd actually have to fall back on 5th grade health. I knew I should have been paying more attention to that film than to Suzie Akins, but you should have seen her. You'd have been distracted, too."

Bruce sighs, unsurprised that this Tony is just as handsy as his dimension's Tony. He squeezes him in a one armed hug before letting him go to wipe the image clean.

It looks like Tony's shaken off the effects of the... Pollen? Whatever it was it doesn't appear to have been an artificial agent; most likely it was something from his side and not theirs. He hopes his dimension's Tony is okay and is grateful that it appears to have worn off on this Tony.

He pulls up the array's schematics, "We can get back to that; I'm sure it's not what you came up here for."

Tony lets his fingertips rest on the small of Bruce's back for as long as he thinks he can get away with. God, he just wants to curl up under Bruce's arm and live there. His Bruce has always smelled good, but not like this; like danger and need compressed into a tight little ball, ready to explode with the right spark, "Yeah sure, I was just going to throw together a little something to help me cope and then we can dig into the array?"

And now that it sounds like he's not going to get knotted by anyone else, sooner will be better than later. The earlier round with Steve had been nice and all, but he's going to go out of his mind if he has to go two days without getting locked.

Bruce is watching curiously as Tony goes through the materials inventory. They're short on lot of base materials, but there's enough silicone for his needs. "Um, Bruce? Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Have I ever been able to stop you?" and there's that dark amusement again; it settles into Tony's spine and makes him want to spread his legs.

"Why aren't you with the Mod Squad?"

"What? What do you mean?

"Why aren't you sleeping with Romanov, Phil, and Clint? Or, are you? It's just, it seems like you're...not?" Tony finished lamely, before he can say something stupid like, 'alone'.

"They're together? And I'm..with them? That's..." Bruce pauses, gathering his thoughts, "No. I'm not with them. I am pretty sure Phil's straight; and while it wouldn't surprise me if Clint and Natasha hook up when the mood strikes them, they've never indicated that they're in a relationship."

"Really? So is... Does that mean Clint's not pregnant?"

Poor Clint.

"Uh, no. No, guys can't get pregnant here. Heh. I have got to see Clint's face when you tell him. Is that what the whole beta thing is about?"

"He's an omega," Tony doesn't say, 'Like me', he's not looking forward to being treated like just another dumb slut once everyone here realizes what he is.

He finishes his design with a flourish and sets the design to print. At least this will help take the edge off.

Since Jabberwock v1.02 will be up and running so quickly, he's just going to try to ride out the heat over the next couple of days. The last thing he wants to do is go back to Steve on suppressants if he doesn't have to. They've already started looking at baby names, and he doesn't want to have to wait a whole 'nother season to try to conceive. There's a small chance he could get pregnant here but without having anyone to actually tie him it's pretty unlikely.

Clint is already unbearably insufferable as it is; the only reason he caught before Tony was that stupid AIM attack late last year, and every season since Tony's either been held by insane cultists, trapped underground, or forced on suppressants. It just isn't fair. And he sure as hell isn't going to go through another wave without getting knotted, even if he has to do it himself.

"Uh, Tony, is that what I think it is?"

"That depends, do you think it's the world's greatest knotting dildo ever?"

"Jesus, Tony," Bruce has gone bright red again, "That is really inappropriate."

"What, you've never used a marital aide before?"

"No, that's not... I mean... I'm leaving."

"Bruce, wait," Tony begs, "Please. I'm in heat. If I don't do something soon I'm going to go out of my mind. You were there for parts of this morning, right? I'd like to avoid a repeat performance if at all possible."

Bruce had been concerned about that. Hell, it's why he was combing through Tony's DNA in the first place. Nothing Bruce had tried with the AIM antidote had any effect on Tony's samples, but he'd thought that either Steve had helped Tony to take care if it or it had worked its way out of Tony's system.

At any rate, that didn't mean Tony needs him specifically. 'Or at all.'

Bruce sighs under his breath, 'Don't do it, Banner. You're going to regret it. Just walk away from the insanity.'

"Please?"

'Damn it.'

"Bruce. Please?"

He stops.

"I need this. And I'm going to need help-"

Bruce turns, a frown marring his brow, "So why not get Steve?"

"He's... I don't want to embarrass him and-"

"But you're fine embarrassing me," Bruce sneers.

"-And I trust you."

Bruce swallows as he shakes his head, "Don't. Don't do that, Tony."

"I promise, I won't make this weird. Th-"

"It's a little late for that."

"Weirder, then. There's just a button I'll need help with, that's all. I'll keep it professional, I swear," It's not exactly a lie. Or at least it's just a small one. Okay, it's a complete pretext, but he really doesn't want Bruce to leave him now.

He should have recognized the signs of an impending wave sooner; if Bruce walks out he'll either have to have to tough it out with no one to hold him or have to ask JARVIS to call for help; neither of which is anywhere near as appealing as the thought of having Bruce wrapped around him, "Please, Bruce?"

Bruce sighs. He should know by now that Tony always gets what he wants, "What exactly do you need me to do?"

"I just need to get it seated and then a button needs to be pressed and turned. That's all. I'll do the first part myself," Tony walks over the fabricator; the gold and red (he couldn't resist) knotting dildo is beautiful, all sleek lines and an expanding base that's going to feel perfect.

"I swear to God, Stark, if you're just messing with me...," Bruce has nothing to follow the threat up with. If this is just some screwed up prank (because of course this is Tony messing with him, he designed the damn thing just now while they were talking), Bruce will roll with it like the fool he is. He knows he's not going anywhere. The Tower, the Avengers, they aren't just a team, they're his home, his family. Something he hasn't felt since Betty- he cuts himself off. He sighs again ('A common occurrence when you live with Tony Stark'), "Fine, lets do this."

Tony sets the dildo on the counter and pushes up his sleeves before unbuttoning his pants.

"Here?!" Bruce yelps and clears his throat, "Wouldn't you, ah, be more comfortable..." he gestures to the nap room, standard in all of Tony's set ups.

"Would that make you more comfortable, Bruce?"

"Yes!" he clears his throat before repeating an a much softer tone, "I mean, yes."

Tony leaves the front of his pants undone as he picks up the dildo and flips it in one hand, "Joining me?"

"Uh, umm, that's," Bruce stammers, "Thanks, but I can wait just outside the door. You can call me in when you need me."

Huh. Well, it wasn't the suavest proposition he's ever made, but he's still a little disappointed, "Okay, but the offer's always open."

Tony licks the corner of his mouth, prompting Bruce to groan in frustration and push him into the room, getting the door between them as he bites out, "Tony. Go. Before I change my mind altogether."

And he should; that look went straight to his groin. He's in so much trouble. Hell, he's been in trouble since day one.

He never should have agreed to leave Kolkata with Natasha, even though it had been about time to leave anyway. Past time, really, to find another large city to hide in; as they had ever since he and the Other Guy had come to their arrangement while in the Great White North. They'd even been practicing their French; Bruce had been thinking maybe Kinshasa, or possibly Casablanca. Okay, the only French Hulk had picked up was 'Mou Banner', but it had been progress. Of a sort.

He at very least shouldn't have let Tony talk him into moving into the Tower; even now he was uncomfortable being back in the States, especially New York. On the up side, they hadn't heard any rumblings from that mad man masquerading as a General (and the only thing close to redeemable about losing Betty is not having Ross as a prospective father-in-law.)

'Stupid Banner.'

Yeah, okay. The Other Guy is right. It would have been worth it.

But Betty is never a safe subject to dwell on, arrangement or no.

He definitely should have walked out of the room the second he realized what Tony was up to.

'Or maybe,' his traitorous mind supplies, 'you should change your mind about not joining him. You know you want to. You've wanted this for far too long. Take it. This isn't Steve's Tony, and he wants you, in no uncertain terms.'

And he'll be gone in a matter of days, leaving Bruce alone again; and it will be so much worse to have to work with Tony, to live with him, if he gives in. And his T-, his dimension's Tony, won't even remember it, because it wouldn't have happened with him.

Tony moans and he lifts his head from where he's rested it against the door and hopes this will be over soon. He had wasted precious seconds pouting after Bruce pushed him into the room and gently shut the door between them . He doesn't get it. Is it something with him? Bruce should be all over him, not chastely waiting on the other side of the door, ready to help a bro out.

He recognizes the signs of arousal, the husky voice, flushed skin, it Bruce's reactions aren't all embarrassment. Maybe he can still entice Bruce into joining him.

He takes his time undressing as he eyes the room for strategic advantages. The bed, of course, but how to drape himself? He has to look as enticing as possible without crossing the line into ridiculous.

He finally settles on reclining in the middle of the narrow bed, spreading his legs wide before stroking his cock a couple times, biting his lips. He's slick with precome and at the last minute he stops himself from licking his fingers. He does that and he'll be gone, lost to the wave.

He cups his balls instead, moaning at the weight of them, wrapping his fingers around them and squeezing as he slowly pulls down, "Oh! Mmmmm!"

He has one hand stroking his cock now, the copious amounts of fluid making a squelching sound, he keeps squeezing his balls with his other hand as he whimpers through his teeth until he hits both just right at the same time, "Unnnnnngh, yeah, so good!"

It's not just a show for Bruce, his hands feel fantastic, his skin is starting to pleasantly ache all over.

He reaches past his balls, stroking his taint before slipping a finger into his soaking ass, "Fuck, yes!"

He hears a thump against the door.

Bruce is going to burst into flames and die. Tony is going to manage what nothing else on the planet could.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck me! Yessss!" Bruce's hand is on the doorknob and he taps his forehead against the door again. He knew Tony wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"Ooooh, fuckfuckfuckfuck. Unf."

Bruce groans, and reaches towards his aching dick, pressing the heel of his palm down hard, knowing it won't help.

Tony may have made a slight miscalculation. He's bent like an accordion, four fingers pushing and pushing, but it's not going to be enough. He's tried, the tip of the dildo slips in so easily, but he made it so wide, so thick, "Fuc- FUCK!"

That last one didn't sound like a good 'Fuck', "Tony? Tony, you okay?"

"Yeah. Fuck. I'm sorry, Bruce, ah. I. I need a little more help than I thought?" at least needing Bruce's help isn't a lie after all.

Bruce steels himself, gritting his teeth before opening the door, "Okay, Tony, I'll-"

The scent hits him as soon as he opens the door and he can't keep his eyes from fluttering shut, "Holy- Tony, what th...?"

It smells like Carnaval, an intoxicating rush of overt sex and hidden violence, a heady craving for potential danger goes straight to his dick. He feels the Other Guy shift under his skin and it's enough to get his control back, if barely. There's no real threat here, not to anything important (just his heart).

He steps inside, the brown of his eyes swallowing the green, to see Tony wantonly splayed in front of him, ankles close to his hips, the garish gold and red dildo just barely inside his body, Tony's twisting it one handed as he thrusts into his fist.

Yes! Finally. Bruce is here. Bruce will fuck him, take him, claim him. Nothing has ever smelled as good as Bruce does right now. Tony lifts his feet to offer his ass up to Bruce as he strokes faster, twisting the dildo, trying to open himself up more for Bruce.

Wait, no, he isn't preparing himself for Bruce to fuck him, Bruce wants to help but doesn't want Tony. He's smells angry, angrier than his baseline, almost as if he's irate that he's aroused at all.

He shuts the door a little too firmly and has taken a couple steps forward before he even realizes it, catching back the impulse to taste, to claim. He takes a deep meditative breath that doesn't work, his pulse is alarmingly fast, and it's only years of control that allow him to sound calm as he asks, "What do you need?"

The deeper he breathes the more his skin aches, but this is an unfamiliar sensation, not the exposed nerve feel of an impending Incident, (even years since the last unintentional shift he remembers the feeling) but an ache of deep arousal. This he had forgotten, and if he takes a moment to reveal in it, no one has to know but the two of them.

If it weren't for Tony's scent building up in the room he'd never even touch Tony. And even though Bruce may want to fuck, he obviously doesn't want to fuck him.

But it almost doesn't matter, Tony can't hold on to his senses much longer, every beat of his heart thrumming want, need, FUCK. It's all Tony can do to form words.

"B..Bruce, need you..." the plea digs into Bruce and his breath shudders as Tony pants," to...unnngh..."

Tony trails off in a groan, fist tightening around his dick, trying to force the toy in deeper and whining in pain, it's too much too fast.

Bruce's chuckle is almost sinister as he settles between Tony's legs, "Oh, Tony, were your eyes bigger than your-"

"For fucks s.. ss sake; you gonna, unf, gonna stand there and, fuck," fucking hell he needs to get the dildo slotted and knotted ASAP, he keeps slipping deeper and deeper into the wav- "Fuck, Jesus, Bruce, PLEASE! Just fucking, uff, FUCK ME."

FUCK. Bruce has to close his eyes and grip the bed. He wants to rip the dildo out of Tony and replace with his dick. Tony wants it to, why is he hesitating, why isn't he fucking Tony into the mattress?

Between one opposite-of-calming deep breath and the next, Bruce's pants are open and he's palming the hot length of his erection, boxers damp at the tip, he's only saved by the Other Guy, rustling in the back of his mind, he can almost hear the rumble of 'Puny-weak-Banner.'

For a moment it looked like Bruce was going to give into the heat, but his eyes glow green for a second and he pulls away from Tony.

Bruce chokes down his carnal hunger, grateful as he rarely ever is for the monster's interference. He needs to get Tony through this... this heat thing, and then get out of here.

He balances on a razor's edge of rage and lust, emerald flickering in the depths of the copper tinted coffee of his eyes. He reaches out and traces Tony's hole where it strains against the typically narcissistic crimson and gold of the toy. He wants to soothe the reddened skin with his tongue, cradle Tony's ass to his mouth while he strokes his fevered body with his fingertips.

Tony bites back a whimper, Bruce's touch to light to be anything but a tease, he tries twisting the dildo in again but he can't get the right angle, his mind spins out improvements for the Mark II but he can't latch on to any of his thoughts.

The Hulk growls in the back of his mind, 'Stupid Banner,' and Bruce shakes his head as though surfacing from a dive.

He stretches his arm to the tiny nightstand's single drawer ('Really, Stark?', he had asked while getting the Grand Tour, rolling his eyes when Tony replied, 'I like to be prepared for anything that might... come up.'), surprised to find the slick wasn't out, and even more so when he realizes Tony hasn't opened it at all.

"Okay, Tony, it will be okay; I'm just going to help loosen you up a bit, okay?" he's not sure which if the three of them he's trying to reassure more.

"Fucking fuck, Banner! Yes it's fucking o- fuck! Now? Now's good. Pleeeese? In me. Need it... Need you, Bruce, please?"

Bruce presses his hand over Tony's mouth, relieved to feel Hulk settle back down as Bruce takes action, "God damn it, Tony! I need you to stop that."

Bruce tastes better than he smells.

Tony's licking and sucking at his hand; the things he can do with his tongue should be illegal. Bruce jerks away like he's been burned.

'Metal Man smell hurt. Banner fix Metal Man.'

'Working on it. Just... Just stay close. It's... helping.'

Bruce doesn't get a reply, but he hadn't expected one.

"Tony... Tony, look at me. Lie back and let me help you?"

Tony replies by falling back on the bed and spreading his legs even wider. He can't reach the dildo from this angle; he keeps slowing stroking his cock, so wet, so ready, and uses his other hand to leave a glistening trail up his stomach to coat a nipple, pinching and squeezing as he licks his lips.

Bruce clinches his fists, holding himself back only by virtue of an unwelcome stab of annoyance.

'Back off, I've got it under control.'

He's expecting a smart ass remark or more begging, but Tony just looks up at Bruce with perfect trust, as though Bruce could never hurt him, and he's wrong, so wrong, but now is not the time to try and get that through his thick head.

Bruce has him, Bruce is going to fuck him, knot him. He'll have a place here until he gets home, and he can live with it, he can, that Bruce doesn't really want him, as long Bruce takes him anyway, marks him, claims him.

Bruce slips off the bed to kneel on the floor and pulls Tony around so his feet are hanging to either side of Bruce's shoulders. He coats his fingers with the lube, letting it warm up, "Alright Tony, I'm going to start touching you now. Tell me if anything hurts or makes you uncomfortable, okay?"

"I will," Tony says as he nods vigorously. Good, this is good, Bruce, mouthwatering Bruce, is going to fuck him and everything will be okay, "Soon?"

Bruce places his dry hand on the top of Tony's thigh, firmly stroking upward as though calming a skittish animal, though Bruce is the only in showing any trepidation, "Soon."

Once again he debates throwing caution to the wind. How bad could it possibly be to have this and lose it?

'Betty.'

Right.

'Right.'

Bruce stops himself from taking a fortifying breath as he reaches out a slick finger retracing Tony's ass as it squeezes the dildo.

"Mmmmm, good. More?"

Bruce pulls out the toy and absently makes a mental note to get some samples of the fluid leaking out of Tony; not to mention and in-depth explanation on how heats work. He easily slips one, two, all four fingers in and starts thrusting gently, scissoring and twisting.

"Bru-uce, please. Need more. Push." Bruce's fingers feel amazing, Bruce feels amazing, he wants Bruce inside him, needs him to fill his ass, make him whole.

"We'll get you there, but lets take it nice and slow; you don't want to get hurt, do you?"

It's a rhetorical question, but Tony pants, "Do you want to?"

It be okay, more than okay, Bruce forcing his way into Tony's tight hole, making him feel every thrust, yes, yes he wants Bruce to hurt him, wants to feel it for days.

"Jesus, Tony, no I don't want to hurt you!"

Add that to the big pile of conversations to have with Tony when he's wearing clothes.

Tony's disappointed, but that's right, this isn't real, he forgot, will keep forgetting, hopefully Bruce will forgive anything he says or does, but then again Tony doesn't care, he just smells so good, dark and violent and strong. He does want he can to entice the alpha, spreading his scent, baring his throat.

Tony keeps rubbing his precome up his abs, pinching his nipples and then reaching back down to his dick; Bruce is failing miserably at ignoring it. More than anything he wants to lick his way up Ton- 'Weak'

Damn it.

"Almost there Tony, can open up a little more for me? Can you do that? Relax as much as you can."

Tony gives in, licking his palm and letting the heat pull him under.

Bruce can feel the moment Tony fully lets go, gasping as he bites one fist, the other grasping at the sheets above his head; he moans, toes pushing against the floor, trying to get more leverage to thrust himself on Bruce's hand.

Bruce twists his fingers and rubs against Tony's prostate, he feels a rush of fluid and his mind lights up like a Christmas tree with WANT for Tony.

The Hulk roars at him and his vision swims green, 'FIX! STUPID BANNER, FIX!'

"Damn it!" 'I'm am! I will. Stay back and let me!'

He's got the tip of the dildo pressing in, Tony's keening, head thrashing side to side as he pulls on his dick and then sucks his fingers.

So good, tastes so good; Bruce has started to press into him, and he's ready so ready.

Bruce is able to push it in almost halfway before he has to pull back and thrust again, gaining another inch.

Tony's going to come, any second, but he's holding out, wants to wait for the alpha, his alpha, needs to come around his knot.

Bruce's vision is throbbing green in time to his heart beat, "No! I've got this!"

'Metal Man hurting. Stupid Banner Fix. NOW.'

Bruce's control is fraying, he knows he can't hold back the Hulk if it comes down to it, but that's got to be worse than giving into the need coursing through him. His skin aches, pulsing ragelustragelustragelust. He finally manages to slip fully into Tony, who's a sweaty, sticky, mess; moaning incoherently. He fumbles at the base, feeling it set into Tony's ass, and there's a button, Tony mentioned a button? He finds it and there's a catch a twist and Tony practically bows of the bed as he comes, splattering across Bruce's face and shirt, Tony's shoulders and elbows beneath him, ass cupped in Bruce's hands, and Bruce can't hold back anymore, licking lips and then pulling Tony up so that he can lick his way up the inside of Tony's thigh, and it's the last thing he remembers as the world goes green.

There! He feels it feels Bruce's knot, the dildo firming up and then softening at the tip as the knot expands, and it's so right, so perfect, he comes and comes. Bruce is licking up his leg and then stops, his scent changing in frightening ways and Tony's heart continues to race as his orgasm fades and he finally notices Bruce's skin tinting green.

Bruce rears back, seams popping as he grows, and Tony's just aware enough to worry that the room really wasn't built with a Hulk in mind.

Stupid Banner. Metal Man not hurting anymore. Why Stupid Banner start licking Metal Man? Metal Man need holding, not tasting. Hulk not like way Banner change. Hulk protect Metal Man from Stupid Banner. Hulk hold until Stupid Banner less stupid.

"Metal Man fixed?"

"Uh, ummm, hey there big guy. Fixed?" Tony's way too strung out for this; what the hell is Hulk talking about 'fixed'? He sits up and feels Bruce's knot in him. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, buddy, Bruce fixed me."

He collapses back on the bed with a half smile, legs over the edge, split wide by Jolly Green in all his naked emerald glory. He's a little (a lot) relieved that Hulk doesn't appear to be under the influence of his pheromones, and okay, maybe a tiny bit insulted at further proof that deep down, Bruce would rather go all rage monster than actually fuck Tony, but he's got Bruce's knot, and his saliva drying up the inside of his leg, and okay, yeah, his come is all over Hulk's face, so he's putting this one in the win column.

He gestures Hulk towards him, "Hey, Big Green Pleasure Machine, c'mere."

Metal Man have Hulk come close and wipe Hulk face with sheet. Hulk still smell like Metal Man, but that okay, Hulk like Metal Man. Metal Man nice to Hulk (and to Stupid Banner). Hulk lick side of Metal Man face and gather close. Metal Man not say, but Hulk know Metal Man want Hulk to hold. Stupid bed too small, but Hulk creative, Hulk twist until Metal Man on top of Hulk. Bed shake and fall closer to ground. Metal Man shout, but bed better this way. Hulk hug Metal Man. "Sleep, Metal Man. Hulk keep safe."

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Hulk licks him, but it was like he was returning the favor after Tony did what he could to wipe his come from the big guy's face. He doesn't think it has the same meaning here, but he still feels cherished.

Loved.

Hulk then surprises him even further when he rearranges them so that Tony is cradled against Hulk's chest; and if he screamed like a prom queen in a slasher flick he could excuse himself, it had been a very trying day and he honestly thought they were going to crash through the floor.

Hulk still smells angry, but holds him so gently it fades to to the background, he also still smells like Bruce, which is comforting. He snuggles up under Hulk's chin and licks him once before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter 15

"GIMME FUEL, GIMME FIRE, GIMME THAT WHICH I DESIRE, ouah!"

The heavy metal blares over the comms as Tony rockets off the roof, "Sooooo. Did you really just pluralize 'Godzil-' WHOA! Okay, yeah, three Godzillas. Awesome."

"It's about fuckin' time," Clint punctuates the gripe with an explosion causing one of the Godzillas to rear back, its tail taking out a couple store fronts.

"Sorry Mama Bird, had to put on my party dress."

"Trouble with your Spanx- wait, what?"

"Cut the chatter, guys. Iron Man can you get the one on the north side?

"On it."

Bruce chuckles with evil glee, "Remind him to explain it at the debrief."

"Yeah!"

Tony keeps half an eye on his GPS, tracking Bruce's position as he flies towards his target.

"Turn on, I see red  
Adrenaline crash and crack my head  
Nitro junkie, paint me dead"

\---

The All Call had woken Tony out of a pleasant nap, and the comforting fullness of Bruce the dildo still inside him had almost distracted him from Bruce's panicked expression at finding himself with an armful of naked Tony. Tony figured Bruce wouldn't be reassured by Tony pointing out that Bruce was just as naked.

"Did I hurt you?" Bruce asked as he scrambled into the spare trousers from the nightstand, resigned to the fact that they were probably going to get destroyed shortly.

"Sadly, you were a perfect gentleman."

Bruce eyed the collapsed bed frame doubtfully, "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure." Tony surprised Bruce with a chaste kiss to his cheek before he headed to the hanger and Bruce groaned in frustration. Tony smells incredible. He needs to remember to get samples after they finish with whatever new menace has appeared. He kind of hopes it's the giant space bees again; they ended up being surprisingly reasonable once they found a common language.

\---

"Bruce, how close are you?"

"And I see red"

"Couple blocks, Cap."

"A hundred plus through black and white"

"Signal when you're in position."

"War horse, warhead  
Fuck 'em man, white knuckle tight"

Bruce's rough chuckle rolls over the comms, "Oh, you'll know."

"Through black and white"

A quinjet hovers before one of the giant lizards.

"Ooh, and I burn"

Widow launches a pair of sidewinders into its eye.

"Fuel is pumping engines"

It rears back with a roar...

"Burnin' hard, loose and clean"

...and while it's distracted Steve leaps out of the back of the 'jet and on top of its head.

"And I burn"

So now Tony can cross seeing Captain America ride a dinosaur (close enough) off his bucket list.

"Turning my direction "

If he had a bucket list.

"Quench my thirst with gasoline"

He's close enough to his Godzilla now to get off a volley with as little collateral damage as possible.

"So gimme fuel, gimme fire  
Gimme that which I desire!"

Which admittedly, is still not insignificant.

Widow's taking shots at her and Cap's, Steve holding on tightly as the monster tries to buck him off.

"Hey, Errol, $100 bucks says he makes eight seconds."

"You're on, Shellhead!" there's second explosion from Hawkeye's position as he aids Widow's attack, Steve trying to steer feature creature down the street instead of through buildings.

"Cheater!"

"Tony! Clint!"

"He started it."

"Did not."

"Turn on beyond the bone "

"ENOUGH. Herd them towards the waterfront."

"Swallow future, spit out hope  
Burn your face upon the chrome"

"You got a plan here, Captain?" Clint fires off a couple more arrows.

"Yeah-aah-aah ooh oh, yeah!"

Tony had almost forgotten how nice it was having Birdbrain out in the field with them and not just snarking over the comms from his bed.

"Take the corner, going to crash"

"Cuz, nothing we've got is making a dent."

"Headlights, head on, headlines"  
"Another junkie lives too fast"

"Seriously, one of them tore through my adamantium alloy net like it was tissue paper."

"Yeah lives way too fast"

"I'm open to suggestions, Hawkeye."

"Fast, fast, fast, woah"

There's a new roar...

"Ooh, and I burn"

...a Hulk roar...

"Fuel is pumping engines  
Burnin' hard, loose and clean"

....and then, in an affront to physics everywhere,

"Ooh, and I burn"

Hulk is spinning his Godzilla by its tail,

"Churning my direction  
Quench my thirst with gasoline"

...taking out several buildings before launching it towards the water.

"So gimme fuel, gimme fire  
Gimme that which I desire"  
"Ooh, yeah, heh!"

"Show off!" Tony laughs, "My turn!"

He lets off a barrage of weapons fire.

It doesn't seem to do much more than irritate the B movie reject, but at least Tony has its attention.

"That's right, sweetheart, let's dance."

Tony's spins through the air, flying circles around its head, taunting it as he pulls up short, and then with a blue flare from his repulsors darts away like a hummingbird on speed, luring it down the street to where Captain America and Black Widow have managed to maneuver theirs.

"White knuckle tight"

Tony's may be leading more than herding, but it works; until he gets too close to Cap and Widow, and his monster, Jesus Fucking Christ, breathes radioactive fire or acid or some shit at the other Godzilla.

Steve slides down its back, narrowly avoiding the blast as Tony fires the last of his flares at his, "Hey, Tokyo breath, anyone ever tell you 'You dance with the one that brung you'?"

...And now he has both Godzillas' focusing on him.

Which is what he was going for.

Obviously.

"Gimme fuel"

"Tony, wait! Wait! That actually hurt it."

"Give me fire"

"Okay then. New plan."

"My desire"

Tony starts flying around the Godzillas' heads spinning them towards each other other.

"Ooh, I burn  
Fuel is pumping engines  
Burnin' hard, loose and clean"

"Tony, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Then I burn  
Turning my direction  
Quench my thirst with gasoline"

He hovers between them, darting back and forth and then they both spit or breath or whatever-

"Gimme fuel, gimme fire  
Gimme that which I desire, oooh"

"TONY!"

And Tony jets out of the way at the last possible second.

Both let out a roar as the fire-acid burns through their skin and they collapse.

"Oh, that burn, yeah!"

"HELL, YEAH!! Stark: 2, Giant Radiation Breathing Lizard Monsters: 0!" Tony shouts into the sudden silence.

"Damn it, Iron M-!"

"Clean up- aisle four! Agent Romanoff, make sure SHIELD sends in the heavy duty HazMat teams; that gunk they were breathing is setting off my Geiger counter like the Fourth of July. "

"Stark!"

"Oh, and have them send a vial- lead lined, for the love of God- to the Tower."

"TONY!"

"Yeah, yeah, Cap, you're welcome!"

"That's not-"

"Hey, Legolas, how's Jolly Green doing?"

"Tony! We are going to talk about this!"

"He's still Bam-Baming the shit about of Dino, but I think he's managed to knock it unconscious."

"Then it looks like all that's left is mopping up. Catch y'all back at the tower. Stark out!"

Tony cut off the comms mid lecture; you've heard one patented "Captain America Says, 'Be A Team Player'" speech you've heard them all.

Chapter 16

"GIMME FUEL, GIMME FIRE, GIMME THAT WHICH I DESIRE, ouah!"

The heavy metal blares over the comms as Tony rockets off the roof, "Sooooo. Did you really just pluralize 'Godzil-' WHOA! Okay, yeah, three Godzillas. Awesome."

"It's about fuckin' time," Clint punctuates the gripe with an explosion causing one of the Godzillas to rear back, its tail taking out a couple store fronts.

"Barton, get your ass back in bed before I tie you to it."

Agent Coulson's voice sends a chill up Tony's spine. There's something so un-Phil-like about it, something- maybe not menacing, but certainly... uncompromising. It, more than anything, reinforces that he's not in Kansas anymore; in fact he's not even in Oz.

"Yeah!"

Oz would probably make more sense.

"Gonna put me in my place, Sir?"

"Turn on, I see red"

"Barton."

"Adrenaline crash and crack my head"

"I am in bed..."

There's another explosion.

"Nitro junkie, paint me dead"

"I just... happen to be able to see the bogeys from our window."

"And I see red"

"Clinton. Francis. Barton."

Tony is pretty sure they're all aware that the only place Clint could possibly be shooting from is the Tower roof.

"A hundred plus through black and white"

He's also sure as shit going to stay out of this.

"War horse, warhead

"If you don't get back into bed this instant,"

Fuck 'em man, white knuckle tight"

"I will introduce you to a whole new world of suffering."

"Through black and white"

"Like hell!" or not.

"Ooh, and I burn"

"JARVIS, cut Agents Coulson and Barton's mics."

Fuel is pumping engines"

"They're in time out while the grown ups talk."

"Burnin' hard, loose and clean"

"I've got tall, green, and scaly to the north;"

"And I burn"

"Banner, get Hulk to the waterfront;"

"Turning my direction "

"Rogers,"

"Quench my thirst with gasoline"

"That leaves you and Tash with Contestant Number Three. Now, let's see if we can wrap this up before the lightening round."

"So gimme fuel, gimme fire  
Gimme that which I desire!"

No power on Earth will make him admit he misses a certain storm-themed demigod.

Not out loud, at any rate.

"On it," Natasha's standard professional chill is overlaid with a tinge of something- (Humor? Yeah, he's pretty sure she's smiling.) as she launches a pair of sidewinders into her target's eye from the quinjet as it hovers in front of their monster.

It rears back with a roar and Tony leaves them to it, still fuming over Agent Coulson's treatment of Clint; he and Rogers are going to have a pointed chat later about maintaining comm discipline. For now he settles for loosing a small arsenal at his Godzilla.

Whoops!

"JARVIS, remind me to have new windows delivered to the Chrysler Building."

"Turn on beyond the bone "

"I'm sure the old ones needed to be cleaned anyway."

"Swallow future, spit out hope  
Burn your face upon the chrome"

"I'll place the usual order under your Damage Control account... Sir." Brat.

Bruce is almost within Hulk range of his B movie reject.

"Yeah-aah-aah ooh oh, yeah!

And it sounds like Rogers and Natasha have theirs...

Take the corner, going to crash"

...Well, okay, under control may be a slight exaggeration.

"Headlights, head on, headlines"  
"Another junkie lives too fast"

Which means it's time to spice things up a bi

"Yeah lives way too fast

"So, tell me, Contestant Number One,"

"Fast, fast, fast, woah"

"Are you allergic to carbide?"

"Ooh, and I burn"

Damn! .50 BMG/HEIAP rounds don't even make a dent.

"Fuel is pumping engines  
Burnin' hard, loose and clean"

Nothing Tony's got appears to even tickle Tokyo breath and they're running out of options.

"Ooh, and I burn"

They could really use Hawkeye's perspective on this.

"Churning my direction"

"Thing One and Thing Two have anything useful to contribute, J?"

"Quench my thirst with gasoline"

"Or do they need more corner time?"

"So gimme fuel, gimme fire  
Gimme that which I desire"  
"Ooh, yeah, heh!"

"Agent Coulson is coordinating the SHIELD team on the ground, Sir. Agent Barton's swearing has left the roof; my sensors inside the Tower are still down, but it sounded as though he followed Agent Coulson's advice and returned to their quarters."

Obedient isn't exactly synonymous with Clint, but then again, scary motherfucking rapist isn't something he ever thought would apply to Phil. Even an Evil Mirror Universe Phil. "You got a plan here, Cap?"

"Try to herd them towards the waterfront. They're keeping their distance from one another, let's see if we can trigger a Territory Dispute."

Tony glances over to see Rogers bashing his shield strategically into feature creatures's head, effectively steering it as Natasha's carefully placed shots encourage it to keep moving.

Huh. So now Tony can cross seeing Captain America ride a dinosaur (close enough) off his bucket list.

If he had a bucket list.

"Second question," he turns back to his Godzilla and fires a couple of flares, "How do you feel about 'long walks on the beach?'"

There's a roar behind him as Bruce lets Hulk out to play, and suddenly Tony's Godzilla goes ballistic, tearing a hole through the New York skyline towards Hulk and Contestant Number Two. Tony catches sight of the third rampaging in the same direction, as Two takes flight courtesy of Rage Monster Airlines.

"White knuckle tight"

"Hulk's is an omega!" Rogers snarls over the comms,"Get Banner out of there!"

"Wha-"

Rogers cuts Tony off, "Other two- alphas," he pants, "Hulk triggered- Fuck, need you, Tony!"

"Someone want to translate that for the tourist?" Tony asks, keeping pace behind his Godzilla, ducking and weaving as bits of former buildings try to fall on him.

Damage Control is going to have their work cut out for them.

"Captain's breathing in a massive dose of alpha pheromones, which means he needs you, Stark." Natasha's voice turns possessive as she growls out, "Phil, have you got our boy?"

"I'm in position, it looks like Hulk was hit pretty hard by the omega's scent; he's going under."

"Gimme fuel"

Tony snags Rogers off of Contestant Number Three's head.

"Give me fire"

So now he's got an arm full of super soldier rutting against him, "Christ, Rogers, chill. I've got you."

"My desire"

Steve's fingers are prying at the catch for his helmet, he growls in frustration and starts pawing at the rest of the Tony's suit, "What the holy fuck is going on?"

"Ooh, I burn"

One and Three have reached Two and are-

"Fuel is pumping engines  
Burnin' hard, loose and clean"

-oh, gross; he's all for threesomes,

"Then I burn  
Turning my direction  
Quench my thirst with gasoline"

but giant spiny lizard dicks bigger than he is are something he hopes to never see again.

"Gimme fuel, gimme fire  
Gimme that which I desire, oooh"

Hulk's ripping off his pants and mewling as Agent Coulson reaches him, and for a second Tony can't take his eyes away.

Sooooo, not all giant green dicks are scary, some are actually quiet gorgeous.

"Oh, that burn!

Hulk's wail of pure need rips through the sudden silence, and something about Hulk getting on his elbows and knees and keening- okay, yes, hot. But they're in the middle of a fight, so everyone stopping for a quickie is just. Fucked. Up.

Rogers' hands are all over the Iron Man suit, "Tony, land, land Tony! Need to fuck you. Hurry. Now!"

How is this his life?

Natasha is rappelling down from the 'jet to join Agent Coulson; who, and in a series of fucked up things, this has got to be the most mind boggling, is calling out sweet words of reassurance to Hulk as he strips off his suit jacket, rolls up his sleeves, and begins to stroke his hands up and down Hulk's thighs, his arms becoming shiny as they're coated in Hulk's lubrication.

Rogers is still trying to crack open Tony's suit as he touches ground in an alley away from prying eyes and the Discovery Channel specially the mating habits of fictional Giant Lizard Monsters taking place a few meters away, "Rogers, wait. Hold on!"

No way is he getting fucked senseless in a dirty alley.

"Tony, need you! Fuck!" Rogers slams them into the crumbling brick, still thrusting up against the suit, and that cannot feel as good as Rogers makes it sound, "Off! Need you!"

But he's also not completely heartless either. He'll do what he can. He pushes Rogers' hands away and lifts off his helmet; Rogers' tongue licks up the side of his face before diving for his tonsils.

Without his helmet (and JARVIS's skillful manipulation of the comms), the fucking Godzillas are louder than than he expected; and even they're occasionally overshadowed by the Hulk's begging, "FUCK! Fuck Hulk! Please!"

He carefully wraps his arms around Rogers, kissing him back and gently twisting them so that Rogers is against the wall. Tony has the height advantage this time and uses it. ('Hello, secret fantasy.' He totally needs to try and convince his Steve that uniform make-outs aren't wrong, they're awesome.) He bends Rogers' head back to suck on his lower lip. He breaks the kiss with a scrap of teeth. "I've got you, just breath, it will be okay."

Rogers snarls, "Gonna fuck you so hard, Tony."

"Of course you are, Rogers, here let me help you with that." Tony reaches down to ease out Ste Rogers' dick out of his uniform, he gasps at smooth metal of Tony's gauntlet as Tony wraps his hand around his already slick length.

He bucks into Tony hand, "Shhh, Rogers. I'm right here."

"TonyTonyTony, in you, FUCK!" Tony silences the demand with brutal kiss, one hand holding Steve's head in place, the other slowly stroking his dick. Tony's getting hard in his suit and has a moment to think 'unbelievable'; if he's able to get pheromone samples back to his lab, his real lab, he could put Viagra out of business.

Rogers is thrusting into Tony's fist, kissing back and still trying to get at Tony through the suit.

"Easy, Cap," Tony lets go of Rogers dripping cock for a moment in order to grab both his hands and pin them over his head in one gauntleted fist. Metal creaks slightly as Steve tries to break his hold, but he's distracted when Tony begins rhythmically pumping his dick with long, even, strokes.

Steve arches, moaning, "Ughguh, Toooony!"

Tony licks at Rogers' lips, playfully avoiding capture as he jerks him off, "Fuuuuuuck, lemme, Tony, lemme-"

Rogers words are muffled by Tony's mouth, their tongues dancing and sliding around each other in a filthy ballet, Rogers starts to thrust wildly through the unyielding ring of Tony's fingers and Tony licks his way up Steve's cheek to moan into his ear through the thick padding of his hood, "Fuck, that's it, Steve, fuck me. Mmmm, so hot like this, keep going, fuck my fist, I want to feel you come. Can you come for me, Steve? I need it, need you to come."

"Unnnghunf!" Steve doesn't hold anything back, shouting out his pleasure as he spills over Tony's gauntlet, knot swelling with an ache, missing the tight clench of Tony's ass.

Tony swallows, holding on to his self-control by a thread, he fights the desire to get down on his knees and lap up Rogers' seed, peel down his suit and fuck him slick with his tongue until he's ready for Tony to slide into him, deep, hard, and fast. He raises his come splattered gauntlet to his lips- and is instantly grateful for the unpleasant breeze that sweeps down the alley, clearing the scent of Rogers' come and allowing his pounding urgency to fade. He drops his hand before his tongue can betray his good sense.

"Better?" Tony asks.

Rogers twists his hands in Tony's grasp and shrugs, "Better."

Tony's not one hundred percent convinced, but he lets Rogers go, picking up his helmet with his clean hand.

He blesses sweet Lady Science as his HUD comes online, the pungent air cycling out of his helmet and the pornographic sounds of Hulk being fucked fading to soft background noise. (How does that even work, mechanically speaking? He's seen what Natasha's packing, and sure, maybe she's got a Hulk attachment, which makes the size queen in him squirm, but no way does Agent Coulson- nope! You know what? He doesn't want to know.)

"How 'bout you? You okay, Tony?"

"Right as rain, Sunshine. Will getting close to those things set you off again?"

"I... I'm not sure," Steve is catching his breath as he puts his uniform back in order; honestly, it's a bit of a shame, 'Debauched National Symbol' is a good look on him, "I should be... okay... for another twenty minutes or so."

"Alright. Why don't you hang back for now and I'll do a fly by."

"Tony, what the hell! Are you always this bossy?"

"'Bossy'? Jesus, Rogers, if it makes you feel better to order me to do what we both know is the next logical step, go for it; but I don't see a point in wasting time."

"The Avengers are a team, Mr. Stark, and that means co-ordinating with each other; which is a hell of a lot easier with one person calling the plays. Am I not team leader where you come from?"

"Sure, but that doesn't mean I'm your mindless fucktoy waiting around for instructions!" his temper's rising, and the urge to bend Steve over, to fuck him, put him in his place is spikes through his mind and he flashes to Barton's 'Gonna put me in my place, Sir?' rings in his ears and he feels bile on the back of his throat, "And I'll follow your lead when I see it!"

"What is that supposed to mean!"

"It means since when do SHIELD flunkies have open access to our comms and what was that shit with Coulson?" Tony knows he's not being fair; he also doesn't care.

"What do you have against Agent Coulson? He's a good alpha. He's a good frie-"

"The hell he is! He-"

Tony's interrupted by a roar as Hulk and the Godzillas apparently reach satisfaction at the same time.

"Fuck it. We don't have time for this, Captain. I'm going to check on our team, you can sit back here and think about orders like a good little soldier," with that Tony's airborne, cutting Rogers off mid-protest as he rises over the top of the building to see a pile of Godzillas passed out on top of each other; SHIELD agents crawling over the giant lizards as Natasha and Coulson, FUCKING HELL, each pull an arm out of a rapidly shrinking Hulk.

Tony scowls as Phil gathers an exhausted Banner into his arms tenderly. Outside of one incident- 'Incident'?! That asshole tried to rape him, end of story. It doesn't matter how sweet he is to Bruce, how good of a guy Rogers thinks he is, Tony's never going to forgive him and sure as hell won't ever forget.

He snarls over the comms, "It looks like all that's left is mopping up. I'm heading back to the Tower to try and get to it back online. Call me if anything important comes up- and by important, I mean important to me.

"Stark out!"

\---

He still hasn't shaken his frustration by the time he lands on the platform, and the suit readouts let him know it's not completely natural. He caught a dose of the Godzilla's alpha cocktail, and even though it isn't hitting him as hard as Rogers, he's going to keep an eye on his vitals until he's sure they've worn off.

He picks up the Starkpad once he's down to his under-suit, "Okay, J. What's our ETA until Phase II of the rebuild? The sooner I can get back to where multiple Godzillas are the weirdest part of my day, the better."

He can't believe he actually jacked Steve off in an alley, while suited up. He very carefully doesn't think about how much stranger today can get; he really doesn't want to know.

"Hmmm, let's see if increasing the- " he's looking over the Tower data and absently pressing the elevator button for 36 when his 'pad transforms into a very expensive paperweight pinned to the elevator wall, "What the fu- holy shit you're preg-"

He doesn't get more than that out before Clint's coming at him with another knife and Tony's only still breathing because Clint's not going for a kill but a pin. Tony does his best to fend off the attack ('What the fuck is up with the elevators in this place?') while trying to not hurt the incredibly, massively, impossibly pregnant assassin. He disarms Clint with a lucky counter- 'Or unlucky,' he thinks as the control panel goes dead in a shower of sparks, the second blade buried to its hilt in the delicate circuitry.

"God damn it, B- hrk!" his voice is cut off as Clint gets his hands around Tony's throat and pins him against the wall, pushing up until Tony's on his toes, hands wrapped around Clint's wrists and hoping that Clint won't do any permanent damage to him once he passes out.

Clint grits out, "You are not our Alpha, Stark! You don't get to treat Phil like that."

At this point anything he could do get free would probably put the baby ('Babies' his mind helpfully supplies from Natasha and Bruce's earlier... Conversation.) in danger. Clint is pressed into him and he flinches as he feels something move against his sweat dampened shirt where it's sticking to his abs.

He squeezes Clint's wrist and hopes it comes across as, 'You have a valid point, and I would love to discuss your concerns in further detail. Why don't you let go of my throat and we can discuss this like reasonable people.' but will settle for 'Let go, you crazy motherfucker!'

"Oh!" Clint's eyes go wide and he abruptly lets go of Tony, stepping back to lean against the closed elevator doors. He wraps his arms as well as he can around his swollen stomach, looking up at Tony with panic screaming from his eyes.

"Clint?"

"My water just broke..."

Chapter 19 (17 and 18 are meta)

"Okay. Shit. Okay. That's okay. I can fix it."

"Fix it? I'm about to give birth to twins in an elevator, and you think you can 'fix it'!?"

"Not you, birdbrain, this," Tony goes to the control panel and carefully tries to pull out the knife out. All he needs to do is pop the cover plate and reattach he wires, a four year old could handle it, "Damn it, it's stuck. Just hold on. Five minutes, tops. "

"I don't think that's an option, Stark."

"Trust me, I've got this."

Clint grabs his forearm in a vice like grip, "I don't think you understand. We don't have five minutes. These kids aren't waiting around."

"How is that possible? You just went into labor."

"Yeah. About tha-a- FUCK. Fucking Donkey FUCK!"

Tony's eyes go wide and he counts back the seconds, "What the fuck, Clint? How long have you been having contractions?"

"Fuck, I don't-" Clint is breathless as he sags against Tony, "Since this morning."

"How the hell did you convince Natasha and Coulson to leave you while you were in labor?" Tony asks as he helps Clint down to the floor.

"I may have let them think they where false contractions."

"You what?!"

"Look, they've been going crazy over every little thing and I just needed them to back off for a few hours."

"Alright, you know what? Doesn't matter. What matters is getting y-" Tony's is interupted as Clint clinches his arm again and wails, another contraction rippling through him.

As soon as his breathing evens out, Tony asks, "Okay, Clint, walk me through this. How does this go?"

"How should I know! It's not like I've ever been pregnant. I didn't even think I could get knocked up!"

"Well there's two of us."

Clint's expression softens for a moment, "Oh, Tony, I'm so sorry; I didn't know you- Fuck! Please Tony, please, they're coming, you have to do something."

"I. Yeah. Yeah, okay," Tony looks around the tight confines of the elevator and then shrugs out of his shirt. It's covered in sweat and grease, but it will have to do. He helps Clint lean back and snags his third throwing knife, using it to split the shirt in half.

Clints wearing a short maternity dress thing that pools in his lap as Tony bends his legs and, "HOLY SHIT, you're having a baby!"

"Fuck, Jesus Stark, focus!

"Sorry, sorry, it will be okay, I've got this. Clint," Tony squeezes Clint's knee, "I've got you. It's going to be okay."

Seconds later, Clint's telling Tony to breath, and while it may not be doing anything for Clint, it helps Tony stay on mission until they have two, tiny new people wrapped in the rags of Tony's shirt. Clint has the older one cradled to his chest, as Tony finishes tucking a sleeve around Clint's daughter and settles her next to her brother.

"Alright, you three, rest while I get us out of here."

It takes a good twenty minutes to get the panel rewired and the elevator doors open, when they do they're greeted by their frantic teammates. Clint and the babies are folded into a group hug with Natasha, Bruce, and Phil before being bundled off to the Tower's medical center.

***

Several days later they're in the common room, Clint is in the center of the couch with Yasha and Tony is next to him with Cleo. Coulson is on the other side of Clint, and while he still raises Tony's hackles, Tony has to admit that he been a doting father. Bruce is on the floor at their feet, his head on Coulson''s knee.

Steve is to Tony's other side and only has eyes for Cleo, his leg is pressed up against Tony's but otherwise he doesn't try to get any closer to the baby. Any time he crosses the line, visible to everyone but Tony; the omega's tense and Coulson growls low in his throat.

Thor and Jane are on the love seat, holding hands and whispering, each of them stealing glances at the babies. Thor had come home the day the babies were born. It was kind of a relief to have another normal person around (for certain definitions of 'normal') and the fact that Jane, who flew in from the observatory as soon as she heard Thor was back, is a beta which was fairly close to normal also helped.

Natasha comes in with a tray set with several mugs of cocoa and sets it on the coffee table before walking around to stand in front of Tony, he carefully lifts her daughter up and Natasha cradles Cleo close, nuzzling the soft red fuzz on her head and cooing, "Who's my little alpha?"

"Here, take my seat," Tony start's to stand but Clint puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait a moment, Tony. There's something we want to ask."

Bruce looks up at Coulson and with a nod rests his hand on Tony's knee. Steve stiffens next to Tony but doesn't pull away. He also manages not to give in to any of his 'Protect Tony' instincts that Tony has been trying to break him of, which is great progress.

Clint looks up at from Coulson to Natasha and nods his head. Natasha says softly, "Will you be Yasha and Cleo's godfather?"

Tony inhales sharply and Steve makes a distressed sound, but is otherwise statue still. Jane whisper's a quiet, "Told you so," to Thor.

He takes a moment to take in everyone's reactions, concerned when the babies gurgles gain the edge of a whimper as they pick up on the tension in the room, "I'm leaving tomorrow, assuming the Jabberwock is calibrated correctly, which it is."

"Please, Tony. It would mean a lot to me," Clint says, squeezing his shoulder.

"If you all are sure, I'd be honor-" Tony starts to say, but flinches as Clint leans over and tries to lick his face, "Woah, what are you doing, Mama Bird?"

"Marking you? You'll be part of our harem," Clint's look of confusion clears up, "It doesn't have to be that intimate, Alpha?"

Clint looks up at Natasha, and with one hand she unzips her jeans and begins to squat, her other arm cradling her daughter. Tony leaps out of the way just in time, "Hey! These are Italian leather! You don't pee on Italian leather! Look, if bodily fluids are a part of this I would have let Clint lick me."

"You are so weird," Clint rolls his eyes, but cups Tony's cheek when he leans down and then sweetly licks his cheek.

"Yeah, I'm the weird one."

***

The next morning everything is set up exactly the same as it was last time, with the exception of Steve hovering over his shoulder. Tony has an orange ready on the counter along with a string of increasingly more complex items.The plan is to get the portal set up and stabilized and then start small; ideally without anything from both sides of the portal touching and causing another explosion.

That was the plan, at any rate.

Everything was the same up until the portal was wide enough for Steve and other Tony's eyes to meet. Tony and Steve barely have time to shout out a warning before there is a flash of light and the ceiling tiles start to fall.

Tony doesn't pass out this time, which is a relief for all of ten seconds before he realizes there's no sign of the alpha.

Tony get's up and starts frantically digging through the rubble, "Steve? Steve! Damn it, we had a plan!"

He hears a quiet moan, but his relief is short lived as he moves the scrap of sheet metal because it isn't Steve.

It's the other Tony.

End Part I.  
(Hopefully Part II won't take another year+.)


End file.
